She Will Be Loved
by RMTNDEW
Summary: Haven hates going back home once she moves into Xavier's mansion, but when a tragic event brings her back, Logan goes with her and a secret that threatens their relationship with each other is revealed from a past that she can barely remember.
1. The Bates Motel

Disclaimer: If you've ever read any of my stories you know that I am a broke little girl and that suing me would get you no where.

Sidenote: I would like to thank Regan Trinity for beta reading (I guess that's the proper term?) the start of this story for me, I really appreciate it, and ya'll should check her out if you get the chance! On to the story, please enjoy!

She Will Be Loved

I hated the sound of my alarm clock, it signaled the time of day that I had to drag myself from my warm bed and drive myself in the freezing cold Canadian weather to the small motel that I owned. There were only five other people who worked for me, four who cleaned the rooms and one maintenance man. Check in time was from midnight to nine a.m. and check out time was three p.m. to nine p.m. I worked from midnight to nine in the morning, went home, slept five and a half hours, worked there to nine, and then went to get dinner to eat back at the motel. I hadn't originally desired to own a motel, I wanted to go to college and become a teacher, but my grandparents on my father's side had owned it and when they died, they left it to their only living relatives. Since no one knew about my father, or where he was, my cousins, whom I had never known, gave it over to me. I tried selling it, but no one would buy it and I figured that as long as it was making decent money there was no point in closing it down. Not many people wanted to work for me, either. Because, you see, my grandparents' last name was Bates, so they named it The Bates Motel. Yes, the same name as the one in the movie "Psycho". Therefore, when I heard about it, I packed up, moved from my home in Tennessee and moved back to Canada all by myself. My mother had moved there when she was younger and had married my father, but once I was born, he left us. My mother started dating a string of men that didn't stay around for very long, until she met one man when I was around five or six years old. I couldn't remember his name, or his face, all I could remember was that he had been good to me. He would sit and watch movies with me while my mom would get ready for their dates. He would bring me dolls to play with, and I would even get to go out with them every occasionally. I couldn't remember him, but I remembered that he had always treated me like a little Princess. Then something happened; one day when I woke up my mom had everything packed and we moved back to Tennessee without an explanation. After that, my mom's boyfriends became worse and when I was eight years old, her boyfriend of the time began abusing me. Punches, smacks, cigarette burns, by the time I was ten-years-old I had a large family of scars living on my back from cuts, gashes and burns. When I was fifteen I had tried cutting my own wrists and ending it, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself go through with it and I had to live with the constant reminder of it with the scar on my right wrist. When I was sixteen, I moved in with my mother's parents, stayed there until I was twenty and received the phone call telling me that my grandfather had died and that I was the inheritor of his motel. I moved there straight away, wanting to start my life over. I thought that I would be able to change things around and rework the schedule but in the entire year that I had been there, I hadn't been able to. I had to work the working hours around my four girls that worked for me, or otherwise I wouldn't have any employees. My life had been stuck in a rut since I had moved there and I felt like I was working towards something. I felt like 'If I can just get through_ this_ week, I'll be closer to it'. I just didn't know what 'it' was. It was an invisible goal that something in me yearned after. I hated the sound of my alarm clock.

"Haven, I refuse to clean Mark Figg's room again, he's so disgusting,"

"Alright, don't worry about it," I told Clara as I walked through the door and moved behind the front desk. I peeled off my coat and hung it over the back of my roller chair. I started up the computer and pulled off my scarf and gloves while it was loading. I then pulled off my cap and pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail.

"No, I'm serious, I will _quit_ if I have to do his rooms again and you know how much I need this job,"

"You're not going to quit, I'll talk to him about it and you can get Becky to do them from now on,"

My grandparents had opened the motel back when it was a cheaper alternative to a hotel, but when I had taken over, the majority of the customers would pay for one night and bring in girls that wore way too much make up, not enough clothes and fishnets with thigh-high boots. They would disappear for a few hours and then the girls would leave by themselves, looking only slightly more disheveled than when they had arrived. The stress wasn't all that bad, my workers pretty much knew their routine and I just left them to it. Bryan, the maintenance man who had worked there for over thirty years, knew the place inside out, checked everything himself and usually didn't need a report to fix something. The four girls had a set of usual clients that they had split between themselves and cleaned without questions, and then they would divide the rest of the rooms all on their own. All I had to do was handle the customers and hand out the check out room list. We had become like a small family, and all the better for it, I thought, considering how little time we all had to ourselves. Granted they only worked for eight hours during check out time, and one before and one after. It would seem as if I got the short end of the stick on that, doesn't it? It wasn't too bad. I had decided that I was going to run it for the rest of the year and then I was going to give it to Sally, the oldest working there. She was sixty and was the mother of the group. Then there was Becky who was thirty-five and a single mother of two seven-year-old twin boys, Meg who was twenty-eight and married with a three-year-old daughter, and then Clair who had just turned eighteen and had been working there only a year before I had gotten there, starting at sixteen. Her mother was a diabetic and she was trying to help take care of her. Bryan was a widower with no other family, except a daughter who barely visited him. As much as I loved them all, I did not want to spend the rest of my life working a job that I dreaded, having no social life what so ever. I wanted to go to school and study to become a teacher, but I wasn't going anywhere there.

By ten o'clock that night everyone was leaving and Sally offered to bring dinner back to me. Once everyone was gone I went over to the fireplace and tried to stir the fire back up, but it had dyed out. I searched for a lighter or matches, but I couldn't find either. I looked around to make sure that no one was watching, reached in my hand and emitted a flame from my palm. When I was around eleven, I had learned what I could do. My mother's boyfriend had been burning me with a cigarette while I was sleeping and I jumped up and got so mad that I set him on fire. He was sent to the hospital and received care for third degree burns, but sadly, it wasn't enough to keep him away. I didn't tell my family, there were southern, not that I had a problem with that, I loved the south, Tennessee was my home, but their views were constricted and being a mutant was not something that was okay, especially not in my family. I hated myself for being different when I was younger, I didn't understand why my whole life had to be so much different than all of my friends' from school. Therefore, the older I grew the more bitter I became, not wanting to be around anyone that was normal and confining myself in my room. When I was eighteen, just before I graduated, a teacher of mine pushed for me to get a job at the local hospital working with the children and it didn't take too long for me to stop feeling sorry for myself and being bitter at everyone else just because they were normal. I got the chance to work with children who had genuine problems, sicknesses, and what I had wasn't a sickness or a problem, it was a power, a gift.

It wasn't long before Sally brought me back some of the left over roast beef, corn, green beans and rolls that she had made for her family earlier that day. After I finished eating I decided to take a small nap before check in time started, So, I curled up in my roller chair, pulled my coat around me to keep me warm and fell asleep.

I was having a dream about my mother's boyfriend that I liked, I had been having them a lot and had a feeling that soon I was going to be able to see his face, but every time he was in the dark, a shadow casting over him. Then there was a bell. A bell? Oh, someone was ringing the bell! I woke with a start and tried to make myself look as awake as possible as I walked up to the counter.

My past was shrouded in darkness, with memories hidden in the dense fog that clouded my memory, claiming parts of my life for its own. There were things that I could no longer remember, didn't want to remember and would never be able to forget. Everything that had happened had left a scar on my mind, matching every one on my body.

I walked up to the counter and saw him. He had been a fairly regular customer for a while but I hadn't seen him in a few months. "Sorry, I fell asleep," I apologized. He didn't say anything to me, he just watched me as I began filling out his papers. Our computer was slow and not much good for anything really, so everyone signed in the old-fashioned way and wrote their names on a clipboard. "Single?"

"Excuse me?" he said.

"Oh, sorry," I said, blushing and looking up at him from my paper. "I meant the room; do you still want a single?"

"Oh…yeah,"

"That weather is crazy out there, isn't it?" I asked, sliding him the clipboard and an ink pen.

"Yeah,"

"I don't envy anyone out there in it right now,"

"You don't have to worry about it, I don't think you ever leave this place, do you?" he asked with a slight smile, signing his name.

"It seems that way. I would probably be better off moving in here, wouldn't have to pay rent," I said as he slid the clipboard back to me and I handed him his room key. "You're in room sixteen."

"Is it still fifteen a night?" he asked, reaching for his wallet.

"I might be able to work something out just for you, even though you haven't been here in a while," I said with a smile.

"I moved to the states," he said, pulling out fifteen dollars and handing it to me.

"Really, which one?"

"New York,"

"Ah, I've always wanted to go there,"

"Have you ever been to the states?"

"Yeah, I lived there for about fourteen years while I was growing up, I lived down south, though. I never got anywhere north unless I was coming here," I said, putting his money into the cash register. "How long have you been living there?"

"A few months,"

"Did you buy a house?"

"No, I live at a school,"

"Oh, are you a teacher?" I asked.

"No yet, probably will be next year," he said.

"I think that's what I'm going to do after I get rid of this place,"

"You're getting rid of it?"

"Well, I'm giving it to one of the women that works for me. I just don't think this is what I want for the rest of my life,"

"You don't like hanging out with these people?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh yeah, I love it here, having to clean up after prostitutes, shoveling snow, only getting five hours of sleep a day, that's my kind of life,"

He laughed. "You shovel the snow, shouldn't you have a man do that?" he asked.

"Find me a guy who wants to work outside in this kind of weather for the 'Bates Motel' and I'll hire him. People are stupid and actually think that Norman Bates works here, or something,"

"Who?"

"Norman Bates, the guy from the movie 'Psycho' who kills Janet Leigh in the motel bathroom,"

"I've never seen it,"

"You've never seen 'Psycho'? Are you kidding me? That's a great movie,"

"Apparently not so good for business,"

"True," I laughed.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your nap," he said with a small smile.

"Oh yeah, the important part of running a motel; taking naps in rolley-chairs," I said sarcastically. "I'm glad you're back, we missed you here."

"Yeah, I'll see you later," he said, talking towards the hall.

"Bye," I said just before he walked down the hall, going to his room.

I looked down at the clipboard in front of me and wondered, not for the first time, what the 'W' in Logan W. stood for.

* * *

"You're still here? I'm beginning to thing you don't go home," Logan said to me as he walked up to the front desk, where I was sitting and doing a crossword puzzle from the Sunday Newspaper. 

"I can't get out, no one else can get in, I have no choice but to stay here," I said with a 'what can you do?' smile.

"I guess you'll be keeping a few extra guests tonight, then,"

"As lovely as that would be for business, you're the only person staying here,"

He raised his eyebrows at me and walked over to the door to look out at the storm. It had picked up at around three that morning and was slamming us hard. It was around nine forty-five in the morning and I was missing my bed pretty badly. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked.

"Are you crazy? You don't need to be driving in this weather," I said, to which the power responded by shutting off. "Freakin' brilliant, just what I need." I threw my paper down, moved to the fireplace, and tried to throw some more wood on it. However, since _nothing_ was as I had planned, we didn't have very much wood left. He came over behind me and looked at the small fire.

"Do you have anymore wood cut somewhere outside?" he asked.

"I don't know, there's probably some beside the tool shed, but it's too cold to go out and get it,"

"I'll get it," he said, heading back towards the door.

"No, it's freezing out there!" I protested.

"And if you don't keep that thing going it's going to be freezing in here," then he opened the door and disappeared out into the storm.

I looked around for the flashlights and lanterns that we kept in my office and decided to sit them out, just in case. It was about ten minutes before he came back, carrying enough wood to last us through the morning and probably that night. He dropped it in front of the fireplace and threw a couple of extra pieces in it.

"I guess I should give you a refund, working for me isn't really what guests are meant to do," I said with a laugh.

"Don't worry about it,"

"Well, I guess you better pull up a chair, then, you won't get to go back to your room until the power comes back on,"

The two of us pulled chairs from behind the front desk and set them as close to the fireplace as we could, it had already started to get cold.

"So how long have you owned this place?" he asked.

"Around a year, I guess,"

"And you hate it?"

"I don't hate it, I would just like it a lot better if I didn't have to work so many hours,"

"Well, you get today off," he said with a slight smirk.

"Yay," I said dryly.

As the conversation lulled, I suddenly felt quite awkward. I didn't usually talk much to the customers and so the only people I had kept conversations with over that past year were my employees and the odd phone call with my grandparents, and I felt like I had lost all long-term communication skills because of it. However, by the look of him, he didn't seem to notice. He looked comfortable propped back in his chair, his hands behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him. I had noticed how attractive he was from the moment I had first seen him, not in the pretty boy model kind of way, but in a very masculine way. I had tried to be discreet about it, but he had caught me a few times as I checked him out. He hadn't seemed to care. His hair was wild and weird, but very sexy in an animalistic sort of way. His sideburns grew into his beard, which only grew to the edge of his chin. If I had remembered correctly, they were called 'muttonchops'. His eyes were hazel, with a constant feral look locked into them, and I felt as if he were looking right through me when he looked at me.

He wasn't exactly the bad boy type that I had always seemed to date when I was younger, he wasn't one of those guys who would put on a leather jacket, light up a cigarette and move from woman to woman because it 'looked cool'. No, if he did that it was because that was just how he was. I had seen him bring countless woman back to his room with him, but as cliché and cheesy as it may have sounded, I felt like he was looking for something else and bidding his time until then with younger woman who didn't know any better.

He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would stride up to you in a bar, buy you a drink and then try to take you home. No, I had a feeling that the woman flocked to him. I wouldn't blame them if they did; he gave off an air of always knowing what he was doing. He didn't seem cocky or uptight about it, he seemed comfortable and knowing of himself, and that, for me, drove me wild.

"Are you up here all by yourself?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's just me,"

"Why did you move up here just to open a motel?" He had moved his hands from the back of his head and began raking his fingers through his sideburns, moving the hair into place and looking like an animal preening itself.

"It was my grandparents' on my dad's side and they were from up here, so when they died it was left to their kids, who had all pretty much already died, except for my father, they don't know where he's at… Anyway, so my cousins, or whoever, decided that I should have this place. It's not too bad; it's just sort of lonely up here by myself,"

"Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"No, there's no time for one, is there? At least that's my excuse for now," I said with a small smile. "What about you, what are you doing up here if you live in New York now?"

"Just taking care of a few things,"

"By yourself, don't you have a girlfriend?"

He cocked an eyebrow at me and dropped his hands to rest on his knees. "You've seen me a few too many times to think I do,"

"Not really, most of the men that come here with woman are usually married, so just having a girlfriend wouldn't be that bad,"

"Yeah, well those guys are jerks," he said. I had a feeling that his choice of words would have probably been a little different from 'jerks' if he had been talking to someone else.

"So that's a definite no, then?" I said with a laugh.

"Yeah,"

I was intrigued by the thought of his logic; it didn't matter if he slept with a different woman every night, there was nothing piggish about that, but cheating on someone, _that_ didn't bode well with him. I suppose that it was respectable in its own right, even though it wasn't my personal opinion.

* * *

It was not too long before I had accidentally fallen asleep in my chair, but I soon woke startled. There was smoke all over the place and I could not see anything. At the shock of seeing the lobby on fire, my breath jerked in and I inhaled a large amount of smoke and began coughing. "Help!" I managed to scream out. 

"Where are you?" I heard a distant voice yell, it sounded oddly familiar and I was momentarily confused until I realized that it was Logan.

"I'm over here!" I yelled back.

"Where?"

I crawled around until I felt something, it was a door but it wasn't the outside door, so I couldn't have been in the lobby. I started to band on the door, hoping that wherever I was Logan would be able to hear me. I couldn't scream anymore, my lungs were too filled with smoke to do anything but cough. I slide down the door, resting at the bottom and watched as everything around me faded out. The last thing I remember is hearing a noise that seemed to be come from above me, right outside the door. A sound right before I blacked out going 'snikt'.


	2. Little Girl Lost

Disclaimer: Same as always, I don't own the rights to anything.

Sidenote: A big thank you again to Regan Trinity for beta reading this for me.

I woke up at once with my lungs hurting and feeling awkwardly both hot and cold at the same time. I looked around me, but it was too dark to see anything. I was lying on a cot in the back of something, I assumed it to be a truck since we were moving, then I went back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, I was lying on a couch in a dimly lit room. I quickly searched around me, trying to find something that might help me understand what was going on. I looked to my right, from where I was lying on my stomach, and saw him, Logan, sitting in a chair, watching me.

"What's going on?" I breathed, my voice sounding hoarse.

"You fell asleep and I went to the bathroom. While I was gone two guys broke in, knocked you out, pulled you into your office, stole the money that was in the cash register and set the place on fire,"

"Did you get hurt?" I asked.

"No, I'm fine, but I probably need to check you out to make sure you're okay,"

"Yeah, alright," I said, sitting up and feeling pain immediately rush to my head. I reached my hand up to feel the sore spot and felt something crusty. I pulled my hand away and saw dry blood on my fingers.

"I think your neck may have gotten burned, you might have to take your sweater off," he said. I cocked an eyebrow at him; even _I_ wasn't_ that_ thick.

"I don't think so, Casanova," I said with a small cough, my lungs were still hurting.

"No, here," he said, unbuttoning his flannel shirt that he had on, taking it off and then pulling of the gray wife beater he had on underneath it, then handing it to me. "I'll turn around and won't look,"

I watched as he moved around and turned his back to me. In a momentary state of shock, I forgot what I was doing and became in awe of his body. He had broad shoulders and he back was smooth. I could see all of the muscles flexing as he moved his arms and propped them on his waist, as he moved his head down, looking at the ground, then back up and looking at the ceiling. I had never been one of those women who went crazy over a guy and talked about how great of a body he had. I didn't swoon over fit guys, or giggle like a little girl when I saw a guy with a nice butt. As a matter of a fact, I didn't even care much about any guy's behind, until I saw him in his tight blue jeans standing only feet away from me. Yes, with my mind still confused from lack of air, or sleep, impaired by injury, or something, I sat gawking at a mat I barely knew while he was waiting for me to change shirts so that he could examine me.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"No, sorry," I said, tearing my eyes away from him for just long enough to pull of my singed sweater and pulled on the wife beater had had handed me. I pulled the excess up in the back and tied it into a knot so that it would fit me better, instead of falling off of me. "Alright, you can turn around now."

He turned back to face me and got I an eyeful of his chest and tight abs. I thought that perhaps he had done something to me, given me some sort of drug; why had I never realized he was so gorgeous before?

"Here, sit in this chair so I can see your back," he said, pushing the chair that he had been sitting in closer to me. I moved from the couch to the chair, my back turned to him. He took my hair, gathered it and carefully pushed it to hang over my left shoulder. A shiver ran down my spin as he moved his hand across my back, assessing the damage. Finally, his hands landed on a hot spot on my shoulder and I cringed, letting out a painful groan. "I'm gonna' have ta' clean this up. I'll be right back."

He left me sitting in the chair and walked away. Since waking up, I took my first look around the room. We were in some sort of house; it looked like a cabin. I looked out the window and saw that the sun was setting and that the storm had died down. There were a few candles lit, but the most light inside was coming from the large fireplace in front of me, in the middle of the room. The only furniture was the couch I had slept on and a table with a few chairs around it, where I assumed my chair had come from. To my left there was a dark hallway that I couldn't see where it led. Behind me, I heard water running and guessed that it was the bathroom. I felt disoriented and confused; One minute I was sleep in my chair in front of the fireplace at the motel and the next thing I knew it had been set on fire and vandalized. I was depressed at the thought of having to fix that stupid place up, it would take forever to find someone who wouldn't be scared to come fix it, and for a reasonable price as well. However, I thought, maybe I would be able to take a few days off while they worked. I might even be able to go visit my grandparents back home if it was going to take too long. I didn't get to dwell too long on what I was going to do with my free time, as Logan was soon back and cleaning up the burns and scrapes on my back. When the hot water soaked rag hit one of my wounds I let out a small whimper and gritted my teeth, trying to ease the pain. He didn't say anything, but his touch became softer. He took his time to be careful with my injuries, being as gentle as possible with his big, strong hands. After a while, I assumed that everything had been cleaned, but he still took his time, lingering on my skin. He ran his hand over one of the larger scars on my back that had been caused by a broken beer bottle and I prayed that he wouldn't ask me where it, or any of them, had come from.

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"Not too bad, but I think someone needs to look at it who knows what they're doin',"

"Okay, I guess I'll go to the doctor tomorrow,"

"I know someone who can look at it for you,"

"Really, who?"

"Her name is Jean; she works at the school where I live,"

"In New York?"

"Yeah,"

"I thought you said it wasn't that bad?"

"It's not,"

"Then why do I need to go all the way to the states to have someone look at it?"

"Because those guys who set fire to your motel knew that you were a mutant and you need to get out of here for a while,"

"What?" I asked, shocked in both by the news that had broken in had known that I was a mutant, and also that he did but spoke so casually about it. I had pegged him as a mutant hater.

"Don't worry about it, kid, you'll be okay there,"

"That woman, Jean, has she worked with a lot of mutants before or something?"

"Yeah, she works at a school full of 'em,"

"The same one as you live in?"

"Yeah,"

"Then you've worked with them before, too?"

He let out a small laugh that rumbled down through his hand, which were still working diligently to clean up my back and neck. "You really were out of it when I broke down that door, weren't you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused but slowly grasping his point. "You're a mutant, too?"

He didn't say anything for a moment; instead, he just finished cleaning the rest of my skin, which had blackened from all of the smoke. "Yeah," he finally admitted, removing the wet rag from my skin before he began to apply bandages to my wounds. Not another word was spoken until he had covered all of my injuries with the gauze and tape.

"Thank you," I said once he was done.

"Can I…" he said, pausing.

"Can you what?"

"Where did all of those scars come from?" he asked.

"Different places, different things," I said simply with a sigh. Goose bumps ran over my skin both as I realized how cold it was and when he touched my bare skin.

"You can sleep in the bedroom if you want, but it's colder in there. If you want to sleep in here you can have the couch,"

"Alright," I said, nodding my head.

"And you can put this on, it's clean," he said, handing me a dark red flannel shirt.

"Thank you," I said again, slipping on the shirt over my wife beater that he had also given me. "How long do you think I need to stay way from the motel, I suppose it needs to be fixed up pretty badly?"

"Sorry darlin', it burnt down, there ain't nothing left of it,"

"What?" I asked standing and facing him as I continued to button my shirt. "It burned to the ground?"

"It looked that way as we were leavin',"

I once again found myself staring at his body, as he stood there with his hands rested on his waist, he looked so comfortable standing in nearly nothing, save his skin-like blue jeans.

I ran my fingers through my curly hair and sighed, trying to avert my attention from his wonderfully beautiful chest. "I hated that place but I didn't want it to burn down,"

"You can go home now, right?"

"I suppose, although I hadn't really planned on it,"

"Isn't that where your family's at?"

"Yeah, but I don't get along too well with them,"

"So are you gonna' stay here?"

"I don't know, I wasn't planning on this happening," I said.

"Well, we're gonna' leave early tomorrow before that storm heads back this way, so you might want to get some sleep,"

"Okay," I said, "where are you going to sleep?"

"On the floor in here,"

"Well, why don't you sleep on the couch since you have to drive tomorrow?"

"No, it's alright,"

"No, I'm serious, I can sleep in a chair or anywhere, it doesn't bother me,"

"You don't need to sleep in a chair, your back's hurt, sleep on the couch," he argued.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah,"

"Okay, last chance,"

"I'm fine," I shrugged my shoulders and went back to the couch to lie down, but my back hurt too much to sleep on it. So, I rolled over onto my side and closed my eyes. "Here," I heard him say as I felt him cover me in a blanket. I peaked my eyes open a little and watched as he folded his jacket into a pillow and lay down, covering himself with a blanket, leaving his still bare chest uncovered. He then rolled onto his side with his back turned to me, and I stared at him without him knowing until I fell asleep.

* * *

"Come on, wake up, we've got to get going so we don't get caught in that storm comin' back through,"

"What?" I asked sleepily.

"Come on, we gotta' go, get up kid," Logan said. I opened my eyes to see him pulling on his boots.

"Where are we going?"

" Westchester, New York,"

"Can I go by my house and get some stuff first?" I asked, looking up at him as he stood over me.

"Yeah, but we have to go right now, though," he said, offering me his hand and pulling me up from the couch. I climbed to my feet, unbuttoned my flannel shirt, slipped on my slightly burnt turtleneck sweater from the floor and pulled on the flannel shirt back over it. Then I followed behind Logan as he led me out the door, out into the freezing weather.

"Holy crap!" I said as a rush of bitter cold wind hit my face.

"Hurry up and get in the truck, I already started it and turned the heater on," Logan said to me, pointing to his brown truck, a harsh contrast to the white snow around us. The truck only had a light dust of snow on it and I assumed that he had been out earlier to clean it off and start it up. I hurried to the truck, tilting my face down to keep the wind from lashing against my skin. I tugged on the door, but I couldn't get it to open. He came up behind me, gently moved me out of the way and opened the door for me.

"Thanks," I said quietly with a small smile and then quickly climbed into the passenger's side seat and buckled myself in. It was not what I would call 'toasty' but it was better than the freezing weather around us. He soon followed by climbing into the driver's side and pulled the truck into 'drive' and going. We didn't speak for a while; I was still in shook by the whole situation and didn't really know _what_ to say.

"What's your name?" he finally asked, pulling the stump of a cigar from his mouth.

"Haven Bates," I said, finding it slightly odd that he didn't know my name when I had known his for so long.

"I'm Logan," he said as he quickly glanced over at me.

"I know," I said with a smile. "Can I ask you a question though?"

"Yeah,"

"What does the 'W' stand for?"

"What?" he asked, sounding a little confused.

"When you sign in you write ' Logan W.' and I've always wondered what it stood for."

"Oh, uh, it's Wolverine,"

"Your last name is Wolverine?"

"No,"

"I don't get it then, why the 'W' if it's not your last name?"

"Because I don't remember my last name, kid,"

"You don't remember your last name?"

He looked at me for a moment and then back to the road. "No," he said, sticking the cigar back in his mouth.

"That sucks," I said bluntly.

He made a rumble in his chest that sounded like a laugh. "Where do you live?" he asked.

I gave him the directions and we headed towards my house.

"Why do you stay at my shoddy motel when you have a place like that back there?" I asked.

"Because it's not mine,"

"You broke in?"

He made an amused laugh. "No, I knew the people who owned it but they got killed, so no one owns it now,"

"Oh,"

* * *

It took about two hours to get to my house and when we did, there was another surprise for me; my home had been burnt down. There were firefighters and police officers all around it. As soon as we stopped, I flung the door open and jumped from my seat, running over to the nearest officer.

"I'm sorry but you're going to have to leave, this is a close off site,"

"This is my house!" I protested, pointing to the mix of ash and snow piled on top of the gray block foundation where my house once stood.

"You're Carry Baxter?" he asked.

"No, I rented from her," I said.

"Where were you while this was happening?"

"I was…I was at my motel that I owned, but someone broke into it and sat it on fire as well, so I went to stay at a friend's house,"

"Your motel? The old Bates Motel that burned down yesterday?"

"Yeah,"

"Why didn't you call to report that it was on fire?" he questioned suspiciously.

"Because she was unconscious," Logan said, appearing beside me.

"And how do you know that?" the officer asked.

"Because I was with her,"

"Why was she unconscious?"

"Two guys broke in knocked her out before setting it on fire,"

"Where were you while this was happening?"

"I went to the bathroom," Logan said with an irritated tone. I could tell he was getting bored with the police officer's questions.

"Would you have any motive for setting fire to both her house and business?"

"No," Logan said, getting angry.

"Sir, he was with me while it happened, there's no way he could have done it," I defended.

"He says he went to the bathroom and if you were unconscious how do you know that he wasn't involved?" he asked. "Unless you saw the men, in which case we'll need you to give us a description of them,"

"I didn't see them, I fell asleep," I said.

"Are there any other guests who would be willing to vouch for him?"

"We were the only ones there at the time, no one could get through the storm," I muttered quietly.

"So, there is a possibility that he was involved then?"

"Look, there were two guys who came in, knocked her out and dragged her into her office. Then they took the money out of the cash register, I walked out just as the were closing it and I tried chasing them down, but I saw that her office was on fire, I didn't see her and so I tried to get her out of there,"

"And you just let the two men leave?"

"She was locked in a room that had set on fire, what do you think I should have done?"

"I'm not saying that you did anything wrong, I'm just trying to get some answers."

* * *

After thirty minutes of talking to the police officer, we finally got enough straightened out so that we could keep driving to New York. Everything that I had brought with me and have bough in my year of living there has been destroyed, all of it gone. Not that I had much, I was saving all of my money to go to college and build a house near my motel in Canada. Sadly, nothing ever came of that plan, because once I arrived at the school, the founder and own, Professor Xavier, offered me a room there for as long as I wanted. I was homeless and too proud to call up my mother and ask if I could live with her again, so I kindly accepted. The mansion was beautiful and I had a wonderful time with everyone else, especially Rouge, who I had met when I had first gotten there. We were only a few years apart in age and usually spent the weekends at the mall with her boyfriend Bobby, who lived at the school as well. The Professor later informed me that my attackers had seen me use my powers before and decided to do their town a little favor and rid it of a mutant girl. I got the insurance money back on the motel and sold the property, giving me enough money to attend college later that year. However, when summer rolled around, school was the last thing on my mind.

I was sleeping, having another dream about my mother's old boyfriend, I still couldn't see him, but it was my birthday and he had bought me a little teddy bear that I named Peaches, though I couldn't remember why. Unfortunately, I was woken by the sound of my cell phone ringing.

"Hello?" I answered groggily.

"Hey baby, happy birthday!" my mother replied.

"Hey, thanks," I said, rolling over onto my back.

"How have you been, I haven't heard from you in a while?"

"I'm alright, happy that summer's here,"

"Yeah, I bet it's pretty up there, the weather's still too hot for me down here,"

"Yeah, it's not too bad," I said as someone knocked on my door. "Come in!" I called out.

Logan walked into my room. "Happy birthday, kid," he said with a smile.

" Logan, what are you up to?" I asked.

"I just came to tell you 'happy birthday', why do I have to be up to something?" he said with a coy smile.

"Because it's not like you to just come into my room first thing in the morning to say that, you would have waited for me at breakfast,"

"Fine, I'll leave then, if you don't want me here,"

"Good, because I'm on the phone with my mother," I said with a smirk.

"Tell her I had fun last night," he said, teasing me.

I picked up one of my pillows from my bed and tossed it at him, but missing and ending up hitting my dresser instead. "Get out of my room you pig-headed, male whore, Canadian freak!" I yelled at him jokingly.

"See you down at breakfast kid," he said with a smirk and then turned to leave, shutting the door behind him.

"Sorry about that, what were you saying?" I asked my mother.

"Nothing important, but do the two of you always fight? It seems like every time I call you're arguing with each other," she said, asking about Logan.

"We probably are, that's how we get along usually,"

"Is that healthy for the two of you to be talking to each other like that while you're dating?"

"Whoa, wait a second, we're not dating. Logan and I are just friends, and as far as healthy relationships go, with all due respect, are you really the one who should be worried about me calling him a male whore, that would have been the easy way out for us?"

"I know, I just don't want you winding up like me,"

"I'm not going to. Even if I were dating Logan, we may pick and fight with each other but we get along, he wouldn't beat me over something, so I'm one step ahead already,"

"Okay, just be careful with him,"

"Yeah, I will," I said; only half listening to what she had said before there was another knock on my door. "Come in," I called again.

That time Rouge opened my door. "Hey, happy birthday!" she said, her southern accent clinging to the words thicker than my own would.

"Thank," I said with a smile

"Me and Bobby were wonderin' if you wanted to go swimmin' out in the lake after breakfast,"

"Yeah, that sounds like fun,"

"Okay, well I'm gonna' go down and eat, I'll see you down there later,"

"Alright, I'll be down in a bit," I said with a smile as she left.

"You seem to have a lot of friends up there," my mother said, sensing that the conversation had gone back to her again.

"Yeah, I like it up here, it's nice,"

"Are you going to come back home any time soon?"

"I don't know,"

"You should, your Nana and Pop are dying to see you, and you know I miss you,"

"Yeah, I'll have to think about it and see if I can make some time for it," I said, staring up at my ceiling. "Oh, do you know where my teddy bear named Peaches is at?"

"Yeah, it's packed up in one of your boxes down here, why?"

"Is there anyway you could send him to me? So if I can't come home I'll have something here with me?" I lied. I wanted to see if I could remember anymore with it. Why not just ask my mother, you say? Ah, you clever person you, but I've already tried that and she refused to speak to me for weeks. Therefore, I figured that asking again would be pointless.

"I don't see why I wouldn't be able to," she said.

"Alright, thanks,"

"Well, I better let you get on with your day; I just wanted to wish my baby a happy twenty-second birthday. I love you sweetheart, bye,"

"I love you too, bye," I said half-heartedly and hung up.

Yes, my mother seemed nice, didn't she? And she was, but it was all guilt-induced kindness. She felt bad about what she had done and allowed to be done to me when I was younger, so she pretended to be nice and act like nothing wrong had ever happened. I didn't understand how she could just move on so quickly while I still suffered from it. I had been through hell, and I was bitter at her for it. I may have gotten over my bad thoughts and feelings about being a mutant, but I was still genuinely angry with my mother. I still felt hurt and betrayed by her, because she, above all people, was supposed to protect me and she didn't. She just stood by and let it happen. I finally decided to stop thinking about it and just go eat breakfast, so I rushed out of my pajamas into a T-shirt and jeans, sliding on a pair of flip-flops on my way out the door. Once I was in the hallway, I realized just how hungry I was and quickly jogged down the stairs and into the dining room. I spotted Rouge and Bobby sitting at our usual table and went to sit beside them.

"Good morning," I said as I sat down.

"Good morning," Rouge said with a smile.

"Happy birthday," said Bobby.

"Thank you," I said, reaching for a plate, but I turned around when I heard someone start singing 'Happy Birthday' off key, behind me. I saw Scott following behind Jean, who was carrying a plate with a stack of pancakes and a candle in the middle, singing. Sadly for him, the other students didn't realize that the rules of a 'movie slow clap' applied with singing 'Happy Birthday' as well, so when no one else joined him he soon stopped singing altogether, just as he and Jean brought me the plate they had.

"Happy birthday, Haven," Jean said to me with a smile as she sat the glowing pancakes in front of me.

"Aw, thank you guys!" I said, slightly embarrassed.

"Blow out the candle," Scott urged, apparently recovered from his singing fiasco.

"No, she has to make a wish first," Jean corrected.

I laughed and tried to think of a wish. _'I wish I could remember who my mother's boyfriend was,'_ It may have sounded like a cheap wish, but it was something that truly plagued me and I wanted to know who he was, maybe I could even find him and see how he was doing, maybe not, I didn't know.

I quickly blew out my candle and Jean clapped. "Thank you,"

"You're welcome," Jean said.

"Happy birthday," Scott told me, ruffling my curly auburn hair with his hand as they both walked to the teacher's table.

"What time did ya'll want to go swimming?" I asked, pulling out the melted candle from my stack of pancakes and cutting into them with my fork and knife.

"Right after we get done eating, but you have to be quiet about it, we're not supposed to be goin' down there without a teacher," Rouge told me.

"Alright," I said with a laugh. I found it funny that I had just turned twenty-two, Bobby was nearly twenty and Rouge had just turned nineteen a few months back, but we 'needed a teacher' with us while we went swimming.

* * *

After we finished I snuck upstairs to change into something that I could swim in and quickly threw in some dry clothes and a towel into a bag before going back down stairs to meet up with Rouge and Bobby, who were waiting to go out the back door. We walked down a path that was on the same property as the school and would up in front of a fairly large lake. I had been down there a few times but it was only with Storm when she had invited me down to try doing yoga with her, which, sadly, never caught on with me.

Once we got to the base of the lake, I pulled off my T-shirt, leaving me in a tank top and shorts, and jumped into the water. Bobby and Rouge soon followed and I couldn't help but laugh at Rouge, as she was wearing an outfit that covered almost all of her skin. It had been quite hot those past few days and the water felt good.

We had been swimming for about an hour and a half when someone came running through the bushes, yelling at us.

"Hey, what are you doing out here by yourselves?"

I turned to see Logan standing at the base of the lake with his hands on his waist, looking down at us with a clearly angry look on his face.

"We're just swimming," I called out to him.

"Well, everyone's been looking for you, Haven. Your grandparents called and no one knew where you were,"

"Alright, we'll go back then," I said. The three of us swam to the edge of the water and climbed out onto the bank. Logan helped me up after I slid in the mud and back into the water. "You guys go on without me," I told Rouge and Bobby as I pulled out my towel and began drying myself off.

"Alright, we'll see you back there later," Rouge said.

"Yeah, I'll be up in a bit," I said as I rung out my hair.

Nothing was said until they were both out of sight and earshot and I was pulling on my T-shirt over my wet clothes.

"What were you doing down here?" he asked as I slipped on my flip-flops.

"We were swimming, what did it look like?"

"The three of you shouldn't have snuck off like that,"

"Do you know who you sound like? Scott. Why do you care if we just went swimming? I mean, that's all that was going on,"

"Yeah, well, it didn't look like that,"

"And how _did_ it look? Rouge and Bobby may be dating but they can't even kiss without risking the possibility of her killing him, and certainly no one thinks that Bobby and I were…." I said, becoming slightly uncomfortable with the thought of what everyone else may have been thinking. "Whatever."

"Just get back to the school,"

"You know, you really can't boss me around," I said with a small smirk, then turned and began walking towards the school. However, I soon found myself being lifted off the ground and slung over Logan's shoulder. "What _are_ you doing?"

"I'm fixin' to be a teacher kid, you better show me some respect,"

"You're not going to be my teacher, and besides, respect for what?"

"I didn't tell the Professor where you were at,"

"Oh, would you like me to get down on my knees and bow?" I asked sarcastically from over his shoulder.

"It might humble you,"

"Humble me, humble me?_ I_ need to be humbled?" I asked with mock offense.

"It wouldn't hurt,"

"You know what, I really _don't_ like you anymore," I said. It wasn't true; however, I really did like him. He had become sort of like a brother, or something, of course, I didn't completely think of him in a sisterly way, I still found him ridiculously attractive, but he was also my best friend and I didn't know how I had gotten along without him. "And just so you know; it doesn't matter whether you tell the Professor or not, he's going to know about this."


	3. Dreams and Those To Come

Disclaimer: It's my birthday, don't sue, please?

Sidenote: Thank you to Regan Trinity for being my beta reader, or beta reading it...whatever, she proof read the chapters because I have dyslexia and tend to screw up parts of the story, so big thanks to her. On with the show.

After that, my birthday was rather uneventful and even though we hadn't gotten in trouble for going swimming by ourselves, we had a long sit down talk with the Professor about how we should have behaved like young adults and if we felt like we didn't need a chaperone we should have at least told someone where we were going.

I stayed up writing in my journal later that night, when someone knocked on my door. "Come in," I called out. I put the lid back onto my pen when the door opened and Logan walked in. "Hey, what are you doing sneaking around this time of night?" I asked, looking at my clock and seeing that it was past eleven o'clock at night.

"Just on my way to bed and wanted to say goodnight,"

"Alright, goodnight," I said.

"Look, I'm sorry if I seemed hard on you earlier down at the lake,"

"Don't worry about it, I know you're trying to be the 'responsible adult' now that you're going to be a teacher,"

"No, I shouldn't have yelled at you, it's your birthday and you were just trying to have fun,"

"Well, thanks for apologizing, I appreciate it, but it really is okay, I'm over it,"

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to tell you that," he said. Then glancing at my journal he asked, "What are you writing?"

"Nothing," I said lamely.

"Really?" he asked, his coy smile creeping across his face.

"Yes,"

"I wanna' see," he said, running to my bed and snatching it out of my hands.

"Logan, give it back!" I yelled.

"Be quiet kid, you'll wake everyone up," he said, holding me back and flipping to a page, where he began reading aloud. "I had another dream about him last night, we were out in the yard playing together, I was just about to see his face when Logan stormed into my room and woke me up. I love him but I really hate it when he does that, I was so close to finding out who he was.' Who who was?"

"None of you business, now give it back to me," I demanded.

"No, if I'm in here you have to tell me what it means," he said, holding the book above my head.

"I'm not being funny, that's my personal stuff, give it back,"

"Fine, here," he said, handing it back and starting to leave.

"My mother's boyfriend," I admitted before he walked out my door.

"What?"

"That's who I was having the dream about,"

"Why do you care about remembering him?" he asked, turning around.

"Because he was the closest thing I ever had to a father,"

"But you don't remember him?"

"No, not really, my memory is nearly as bad as yours, you know?"

"Why don't you just ask your mother?"

"Because I did once and she wouldn't speak to me for nearly a month because of it,"

"Why?"

"I don't know, she never told me why they broke up, why we left, I don't know anything about the situation and I can't remember anything about it, really. What I do remember is clouded and I can't ever see his face,"

"How old were you?"

"About five or six, I guess,"

"And you don't remember what he looks like?"

"No,"

"You have dreams about him?"

"Yeah,"

He paused for a second and the said; "I know what it's like to not be able to remember, kid. I would talk to your mom again, if it's that important to you,"

"It's not important; it's just something that bugs me,"

"It _bugs_ you?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's not a big deal," I lied.

"If you don't want to upset your mother why not go ask the Professor or Jeanie about it, they could probably help ya',"

"Yeah, I might,"

"Night kid,"

"Night Logan,"

* * *

I had never thought about it but I decided to take up Logan's idea and went to pay the Professor a visit the next day.

"I know what you want Haven, and I'm afraid that I can't do it," he said as soon as I sat down.

"Just listen to me,"

"No, I don't think it's a good idea right now,"

"Right now, why not right now?"

"Because Logan should have told you, since he suggested it, that I will not simply just read your minds whenever you feel like it. If I feel that there is a need for it then I will,"

"But why not right now, do you believe that there will be a reason for it later?" I asked, standing from my seat, following him as he rolled out of his office and down the hall.

"I would rather not say,"

"And I would rather that you did; if you know why I've come to you and you believe that it will be important at some point for you to read my mind and tell me about it, then why can't I know now?"

"Haven, I've read your mind before and I do know what you're looking for, however I believe that it is best for you to remember and figure it out for yourself,"

"With all due respect, sire, it's my mind, shouldn't I have the right to know what's going on inside of it?"

"Yes, you do, but you have the right to only remember what you do, or otherwise there would be no problem. Have a good day," he said, rolling away.

A few days later, I received my teddy bear, Peaches, in the mail, so I took him upstairs to put in my bedroom.

"Who's that from?" Logan asked, taking up my doorway with his shirtless body.

I hated it when he snuck up on me.

"None of your business," I said, propping it on my bed, in between my two pillows.

"Is it from the guy, Sean?" he asked with a distasteful look on his face.

"Maybe, why does it matter to you?"

"He's a little late on the birthday thing, isn't he?"

Sean was a guy that I had met at the mall a few months back and we had been dating for quite a while.

"It's not from him; it's one of mine that my mother sent me from home,"

"So he didn't get you a present?"

"No, he took me out,"

"He takes you out almost every weekend, how is that a present?"

"Well you didn't get me anything either, so it's not as if you can really talk," I shot back.

"Yeah, well, we're not dating,"

"Ah, ten points for Logan for being so observant," I said sarcastically.

"He's not good for you kid, I'm tellin' you," he said, walking away.

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you," I called after him.

* * *

Later that night I sat in the den with Logan, Jean, Scott and Ororo as they all watched TV and I tried to finish knitting a scarf that I had been working on since earlier that year, while it was still cold out. Soon, though, they left the room to just Logan and me.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking over at me sprawled out on the couch with yarn twisted everywhere around me.

"I'm knitting, what does it look like?" I asked, not looking up from the needles I was holding in my hands, trying to remember to bring the right needle in from the back and not the front.

"It looks like you're making a mess," he said, standing from the chair he was in and coming over to the couch I was sitting on. "Move over,"

I moved my legs out of the way and allowed him to sit beside me. "You know, you could stab someone with these needles and it would hurt pretty badly, I bet,"

He looked at me with a questioning expression painted on his face. "Why hasn't the Professor already taken those things away from you?"

I finally looked up at him, confused. "Why would he?" I asked.

"You're talking about stabbing people with them," he deadpanned.

"I was making conversation, and they probably _would_ hurt, that's all I was saying," I defended.

"You need help, kid," he said as he flipped through the channels.

"And you don't?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"No," he said with a small smirk.

"So who did this to you?" I asked, starting a new row on my scarf.

"Did what?"

"Domesticated you,"

"You think I'm domesticated?" he asked, look amused.

"You're sitting in a school, watching TV, making fun of a twenty-two year old girl about knitting and you nearly had a coronary the other day down by the lake," I said with a smile. "I bet it was Jean, wasn't it? That's why you act like this,"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're trying to be like Scott so she'll notice you,"

He looked at my through furrowed eyebrows; he had stopped flipping through the channels and it had landed on Cartoon Network that was playing an old Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd cartoon. I beamed at him, proud of myself for causing him to get so mad. However, my joy was short lived as he turned away from me and continued his channel surfing until he landed on the second 'Lethal Weapon' movie. "You don't know what you're talking about kid,"

I paused from my knitting long enough to watch Mel Gibson trying to catch the bad guy in the pool but ending up beating Joe Pesci instead. I let out a laugh. "I love this movie," I said. He wouldn't look at me. "Oh, come on, don't be mad at me, I was only joking around." I nudged his side with my foot. "Come on Logan, why are you allowed to make fun of me all the time but I'm not allowed to make fun of you?" He pushed my foot away and gave me another look from underneath his eyebrows. "Fine then, if you're that mad at me that I'll just leave," I told him, gathering all of my things together and standing up from the couch. I had only moved one of my feet before I felt his hand grasp around my arm and pull me back.

"Sit down and watch the movie, kid,"

"You know that I could report you to the Professor for harassment, right?"

"Shut up and watch it,"

I sat back down, propped my feet in his lap and within thirty minutes I fell asleep. I began having a dream about my mother's boyfriend that had abused me. I was in my old bedroom back at home and I heard the two of them arguing, so I got up to see what was going on. I walked into the kitchen, and when they saw me, my mother told me go get back in bed. I asked what was going on and he yelled at me to listen to my mother, but I didn't move. Then he came at me, grabbed my arm and dragged me into my room and then he started beating me with his belt, leaving swollen whelps across my back, and a shot of pain with each lash. I started crying and prayed that he would stop.

"Wake up, Haven," I heard Logan say as he shook me from my dream. Still feeling haunted by the nightmare I jerked away from his touch, feeling the tears that had been running down my face as I slept. "It's alright, it was just a dream," he comforted me.

I shook my head, telling him that I knew he was right. He was crouched down beside me and I could tell that he wanted to know of what I had been dreaming. "I'm okay," I finally said once I had wiped away all of my tears. "Is the movie off?"

He smiled at me and shook his head. "No, not yet," he said.

"Will you finish watching it with me?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, standing up and sitting back in his seat.

I moved from my end of the couch and lay my head on his shoulder. "Thank you," I said. Then we watched the rest of the movie in near silence, with the exception of me laughing every occasionally.

* * *

The next day was Saturday and I had a date with Sean that night. I was heading down to the gym because I had left my bag down there from when I had been working out earlier that day. I walked in and saw that the only person there was Logan, who was hitting a punching bag and not wearing a shirt. I thought that at that point, I would have gotten used to seeing him bare-chested, but I was still intrigued all the same.

"Come to work out?" he asked, not looking at me.

"Nope, come to get my bag. I've got a date tonight and I left my stuff down here,"

"You're goin' out with Sean?"

"Yeah,"

"I don't like him,"

"Funny that, I would have never have guessed it," I remarked sarcastically walking over to my gym bag, picking it up and slinging it over my shoulder.

"I don't trust him,"

"You've never met him," I retorted, walking up behind him, in effort to leave. But, I was sidetracked as I watched him taking out his aggression on the poor punching bag. I watched the muscles in his back flex with every hit and soon I was flat out just staring at him.

"Did you forget something, kid?" he asked, noticing that I was staring at him.

My attention snapped back to reality and what I had been doing. "No, just enjoying the view," I said with a laugh as I kept walking, smacking him on the butt as I passed him. "Work that bag, Logan!"

"Hey kid," he called out as I was walking away, laughing at myself. "Come here,"

"What?" I asked, turning around and standing right in front of him.

"I wanna' talk to that Sean kid before you go out tonight," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

"No," I said simply.

"Why not?"

"Because there's no reason for you to, he's nice, there's nothing wrong with him and if you talk to him then you'll scare him off,"

"If he gets scared off from me talkin' to him then you don't need him around, do you?"

"Look Logan, I don't trust men, okay? Like at all, but I really like him and I know that you may not, for whatever reason you have, but I could really appreciate it if you didn't make this more difficult than it has to be,"

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do _you_ trust _me_?" he asked again.

"That's not only completely stupid because you know that I do, but also completely irrelevant to the conversation,"

"I don't like this guy, Haven, alright? Do you trust me about that?"

"I trust that you don't like him, but I don't know why?"

"Because something doesn't feel right about him,"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, I just don't trust him and I don't think that you should go out with him," he started. I did trust Logan, and I loved him as well, but if I wanted to go out with a guy, that was up to me and not him. He kept talking about how he didn't like him and didn't trust him and I found myself thinking of ways to get him to shut up. Finally, I grabbed him by his hair, pulled him to me and covered his mouth with mine, kissing him and drowning out his ramblings. It was the first time I had ever snuck something up on him and it had certainly surprised him. He soon worked through the shock, however, and began kissing me back. He wasn't all that bad and I soon began wondering why I had never thought about kissing him before, it sure seemed to be an effective way in keeping him quite. It didn't take long for me to feel like I had gotten my point across and pulled myself away from him.

"Hit the showers Logan, you need to cool off," I said, and then walked away.


	4. Listen To Your Heart

Disclaimer: I have no rights to anything, but enjoy all the same!

My date with Sean had gone pretty well as he was driving me back to the school after we had gone out to eat and to see a movie. However, instead of taking the usual way home, he pulled off onto a side road and parked the care.

"What are we doing?" I asked, looking around.

"Is there anything going on between you and that Logan guy?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, shocked that he would even think that. "No, why?"

"You talk about him_ all_ the time; I'm starting to think that you have a crush on him, or something,"

"Are you serious? Logan's like…my brother; I don't have a _crush_ on him,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure," I said a little offended that he would even suggest that.

"It's just that it's a little hard to go out with you when all you ever talk about is how he did this to you, or that. When we got out I just want it to be us, not him,"

"You talk about you girl friends around me all the time; I don't ever get mad,"

"But that's different,"

"How?" I asked.

"Because I don't talk about them while we're making out,"

"Neither do I,"

"Yes you do,"

"Like when?"

"The other day when we had gone to play pool, afterwards I was trying to kiss you and you were talking about how you had hurt yourself because he had scared you, or something, and you dropped something on your foot,"

"Oh my word, we were in public! I don't like watching people making out in public, so I didn't want to do it either, and I'm sorry but yes; he had scared me and made me drop a pack of Cokes on my foot, which hurt pretty badly,"

"But you're always talking about him,"

"Because he's my friend, are you really _that_ jealous of him?"

"Yes, I am,"

"That's pathetic,"

"Don't call me pathetic!" he snapped.

"And you don't yell at me," I said back.

"He probably doesn't even care about you; he probably just wants to screw you,"

"I beg your pardon? Do_ not_ talk about me like that, and as for whether you think he cares about me or not, he cares more about me than you do,"

"Who said that I cared about you?"

"Well I assumed that you did just a little bit since we're _going out_," I said. "Just take me home,"

"Why don't you get _Logan_ to come and get you?" he asked, looking at me with an angry look on his face.

"No, you started this so _you_ are going to take me back home,"

"And that's another thing; why am I not allowed in that place? I have to pick you up and drop you off at the gate,"

"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"We're not going out anymore, so it shouldn't matter now,"

"What do you mean 'we're not going out'?"

"I _mean_, we're not going out, that's pretty clear, isn't it?"

"You're not breaking up with me,"

"You said you didn't care anything about me, so why do you care if I break up with you?" I asked, just before he lunged himself at me, trying to kiss me. "Get away from me!"

"Let's just have a little fun before you leave, just a goodbye kiss," he said, forcing his mouth down on mine.

"No!" I screamed, opening my door and staggering out from underneath him. He followed me, pushing me up against the care, kissing me and sticking his hand up my shirt. I pushed his hand away from me. "Stop it!" But he didn't, he continued to pin me against the care and kiss me for nearly five minutes, and I prayed that he wouldn't go any further. "Please, stop!" I said as he moved his hands all over me.

All of a sudden, I felt him being ripped from me, saw him being thrown to the ground and I looked over to my left to see Logan. "Go to the house, Haven," he said to me. I didn't move, I felt glued to my spot. He looked at me, his expression less harsh than when he was looking at Sean, but it was still just as stern. "Did you hear me, kid? Go home, I'm gonna' have a talk to Sean over here about what 'no' means,"

I ran away, running to the school. I didn't stop until I got to my room where I collapsed on my bed, crying. I laid there for around thirty minutes, during which time Rouge, Jean and Storm had all come and knocked on my door, before Logan came and knocked.

"Kid, open up," he said through my door. But I didn't, I stayed in my room for two days before Logan came back to my door, demanding that I open up. "Kid, if you don't open then I'm comin' in on my own, you got that?" I didn't say anything. "Alright kid, I'm opening your door," he said, then I heard 'snikt' before he un-locked my door and came in. I heard his claw retract and the door close before he walked over to where I was lying on my bed, crying with my back turned to him. He didn't say anything; he just loomed over me.

"What do you want, Logan?" I asked between sobs.

"I want to talk to you about what happened the other night,"

"And say what?" I asked, turning over and sitting up. "That you told me so, that I should have listened to you? Is that what you wanted to say, because I already know that, okay? I know that I should have listened to you, but I'm a stupid little girl and I screwed up. I screwed up big time, do you really think I feel better about myself knowing that not only did you tell me not to trust him, but you also had to come and _save me_? So if you want to say 'I told you so,' then go ahead and do it and then leave me alone,"

"That's not what I was going to say,"

"Then what _were_ you going to say?" I asked, starting to cry harder.

He sat down beside me and to my surprise, pulled me to him and held me. "Listen kid, we all make mistakes, alright? The point is to learn from them,"

"I just don't understand,"

"Understand what, darlin'?" he asked, stroking my hair

"Why does this always happen to me? Do I look weak and stupid? How do they always know that I'll just let them hurt me?" I cried, burring my face into his neck.

"You're not weak or stupid, you just want to trust people too easily, not everyone out there cares about you kid, but I do, alright? And I won't let this happen again,"

"What would have happened if you hadn't been there, what would I have done?"

"I don't know,"

"How _did_ you know what was going on?" I asked, looking up at him.

"The Professor told me,"

"I'm sorry; I should have listened to you,"

"Don't worry about it,"

"But I should have, you were right; I should trust your instincts,"

"I don't care that you didn't listen to me, I just wanted you to be okay,"

I nodded my head. "Well, I am…sort of, I'm just sick of people doing this to me,"

"I know, but I won't do that to you, Haven, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," I said as he pulled me back to him and held me until I stopped crying.

He was what I had missed in my life, whether it was supposed to come from a parent, a sibling or a friend, I didn't know, but a sense of protection is what had drawn me to Logan. I knew that he could take care of my physically, he was there for me emotionally and I knew that he understand me in my pain of not remembering all of my past. So I clung to him like a little kid to their parent after a bad dream, and he petting me and soothed me, taking care of me. He held me to him and kissed me on top of my head.

"Thank you, Logan. I know I rag you all the time, but I really do love you and I really am glad that you were there for me,"

"I know darlin', you don't have to thank me," he said just before someone knocked on my door.

"Come in," I said. My door slowly opened to reveal Rouge standing in my doorway with Jean right behind her.

"How are ya' feelin'?" Rouge asked, pushing the door the rest of the way as she and Jean walked into my room.

"All right, I guess," I said, my nose congested from crying.

"Do you want to come and get something to eat?" Jean asked.

"Yeah, in a little bit," I said, pulling away from Logan and sitting up straight. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in my room. "Oh dear, I look like crap,"

They smiled at me. "Why don't you take a shower, it might make you feel better," Jean suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said, wiping away the drying tears that had streaked down my face.

"Alright, we'll leave you to that, then," Jean said.

I nodded my head and she and Rouge left, shutting the door behind them.

"I guess I'll go too, kid," Logan said, standing. I stood up after him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He held one arm around my shoulders and cradled my head against his mouth with his other hand, kissing my forehead. "You're gonna' be alright,"

"I know," I said, continuing to hold on to him. I looked up at him and he pushed the hair out of my face.

"You trust me, right?" he asked, looking into my eyes.

I nodded my head. "Yes," I said.

He kept looking into my eyes, before he lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me. I could taste whiskey in his mouth and I could smell the strong scent of cigars on his clothes. Even though I thought I had never really desired to kiss him, it felt so natural and came so easily to me. He found no resistance from me and we continued to kiss until there was another knock on my door. He pulled his lips away from mine and moved his body away from me.

"Yeah, come in," I called out. The door opened to show Scott standing with his hands on his hips.

"Sorry, but the Professor's looking for Logan," he said.

"Better see what he wants," Logan said to me, moving to leave.

"Yeah, alright, I'll see you later," I said, giving him and Scott both a weak smile.

He left but Scott stayed, taking up my doorway. "He hasn't tried to…" Scott said, trailing off.

"He hasn't tried to what?" I asked.

"Well, I know that you're vulnerable right now, I would hate to think that he would take advantage of that,"

"Then don't think about it, then. I may be upset but I'm not stupid, I'm not going to let something happen that I don't want,"

"Okay, just making sure, because if he's doing anything, I can go talk to him,"

"Thanks for the offer, but its okay, nothing's going on so you don't have to worry about it,"

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive, if anything goes wrong, you'll be the first I tell, Scott, no question,"

"Okay then, I guess I'll talk to you later, then,"

"Alright, bye," I said to him as he walked off. I could hear him going down the hall singing 'Copacabana' and I couldn't help but laugh. I felt much better, even if I couldn't trust all normal humans, I knew that there was a good, solid home for me there. Even though almost everyone there was crazy, they were lovable in their own ways.

As I took a shower it finally hit me that I had been making out with Logan, but he wasn't trying to get me to shut up, and in that moment I realized that I did like him, I _really_ liked him and that perhaps he liked me, too.

After my shower, I went downstairs for dinner. I went and sat with Rouge and Bobby. We sat and talked all throughout dinner and I felt normal again. Everything felt back in order and I didn't feel drained, surprisingly. When I was younger, I would always feel drained and empty after I had been beaten, like I was alone and didn't have anyone to understand, but I didn't feel like that, I felt happy for being at the school, for knowing other people like me and for knowing that I _wasn't_ alone.

* * *

I couldn't sleep that night, I felt too antsy. I had been just lying in my bed for those past two days and I felt like I needed to get up at move. So I decided to go down to the gym and work out my sleeplessness. When I got down there, I found a pair of boxing gloves, slipped them on and went to town hitting the punching bag with all I had. I had never used it before and I didn't realize how much aggression I could take out on it.

"You're gonna' hurt yourself punching like that,"

"You scared me!" I said as I heard Logan speak. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you get out of bed and wanted to make sure you weren't sneaking off somewhere,"

"No, I just couldn't sleep," I said, awkwardly pushing the hair out of my face with my hands that were covered in boxing gloves. "What do you mean I'm going to hurt myself punching like this? How am I supposed to punch?"

"Let me show you," he said. He walked over behind me and grabbed my arms, moving them into the proper position and using them to swing into the bag. After a few minutes of showing me how he said, "Like that," and then let go of my arms, but still hovered behind me, watching me.

"Like this?" I asked, trying to mimic what he had just shown me.

"Yeah, close enough," he said, but still he didn't move, he just stayed there.

I threw a couple of punches, trying to work out my nerves that had been surfacing as a question burned in my mind, begging to be asked. "Logan, what's going on between us?" I asked, finally letting the question escape my mind, as I stopped hitting the bag and turned to look at him. He was in a pair of sweat pants and a gray wife beater.

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know, kid,"

"I mean, do you like me, have you always liked me, what?" I asked, suddenly feeling very childish in my choice of words.

"I don't know, when you kissed me the other day," he started.

"That was just to get you to shut up," I said with a smile.

"I know, but I hadn't thought about you like that in a while,"

"In a while, you thought about me like that at one point?"

"When we met, yeah,"

"That night in the cabin," I said, remembering the events.

He nodded his hand and ran his fingers through the back of his hair. "Yeah," he said.

"What did you think about?" I asked.

He looked at me a little confused. "I don't think you need to hear it," he said with a smirk.

"Oh," I said with a small smile and nodding my head, "never mind, then."

"What about you? Are you sure that was just to get me to shut up?"

I thought for a moment; it had been just to get him to stop talking, Logan was a friend that I felt comfortable doing that with, but had it stayed that way? Had my mind been changed at all since earlier that day?

"Yeah, that's all it was, but that back in my room, what was that all about?"

"You didn't answer my other question,"

"What other question?"

"Do you like me?" he asked, almost looking as if it disgusted him to be speaking about such fluff.

"I don't know, I think so, but I hadn't thought until today before dinner. You're my friend and that's all I had allowed myself to think of you as. Do I think you're attractive? Yeah, I think you're dead sexy, but the thought of you and me… I'm not your type. I'm just 'kid', you watch movies with me, you pick on me, I stare at you shamelessly when you go around with your shirt on. I let you see me without makeup on, without my hair fixed and in my pajamas. You need someone who's wild and spontaneous, someone who's gorgeous, not to mention older. As much as I love it, 'kid' is not a romantic name; you need someone who can give you what you want,"

"And what _do_ I want?" he asked.

"I don't know, someone like you, someone who can keep up with you,"

"And you can't keep up with me?"

I smiled. "Why me, though?"

"Because of why you said that I needed someone else,"

"You like me because I'm willing to let you see me when I look like crap?"

He reached up and tucked the piece of hair that had fallen from my ponytail behind me ear. "You're not fake,"

"There are a lot of woman who aren't fake, I'm not special or anything,"

"That's your problem, kid,"

"That I'm not special?"

"No, that you don't think you are,"

"Logan, I'm like damaged goods, I may be just the same as everyone else but I'm half price because there's a few dents. No one wants a dented can,"

"Why are you calling yourself a _dented can_?" he asked with a look that signified half frustration and half amusement.

"It's an analogy,"

"It's a stupid one,"

"Thanks," I said, rolling my eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with you,"

"Yeah, I'm just like everyone else, aren't I? Everyone else had a bad childhood, they all got hurt and left to deal with the scars on their own, right? Most people don't remember their lives, and what they do remember is either completely screwed up by pain or fuzzy and barely recognizable,"

"No, not everyone is like that, but I am, alright? I get it, why do you think I need someone better than you?"

"Just because we're both screwed up does not make it okay, Logan, that just means we're two screwed up people who found each other,"

"And that doesn't make you feel any better?"

"No, because two crazy people do not make one sane person,"

"What do you want then?"

"I don't know, I mean, part of me is saying just to keep it cool because if this doesn't work out then I don't want our relationship screwed up. I love being friends with you and it would kill me if we stopped getting along over something like that,"

"What about the other part of you?"

"The other part of me wants to stop talking and just make out with you," I said with a smile. "That other part of me wants to take a chance on this because I think it might work out well because I am friends with you first. I think it would work because aside from being attracted to you, I genuinely get along with you and like you outside of a romantic relationship, obviously as I've only just started thinking of you like that,"

"Then what's the problem, kid?"

"That, the kid thing, does that not bother you to think of me as a kid?"

He looked down at the floor and ruffled the back of his hair. "That's just what I call you, I don't really think of you like that,"

"How do you think of me? I've been standing here spilling everything out, telling you that I think you're hot, I enjoy making out with you and comparing myself to a dented can, what do you want to say?

He looked back up at me. "I think that you're too hard on yourself, if I wanted someone else then I would have gone after them,"

"But you can have almost any girl, a beautiful one at that,"

"Well I reckon that's what I've got, isn't it?"

"_You_ think that _I'm_ beautiful? Logan, you're losing it, sweetheart," I said.

"You don't think that?"

"No, I think that I'm awkward looking and marked,"

"Marked?"

"You've seen my back; you've seen my scars,"

"And that effects how you look?"

"Yes, it does,"

"Haven, if I didn't think you were beautiful, then why would I be doing this?"

"Apparently we both have very low self esteems because we each that that the other is far too good for us,"

"I'm fine; it's you that needs the work,"

"So now you agree with me that I'm damaged?"

"There's not doubt that you're damaged kid, we both are, but that's the point. Maybe you get something that other woman don't, maybe I want to take care of you instead of hurting you. I know that other people ain't treated you how they should have; I know that other men have used you, but I'm not going to, all right? You want this, I'm all yours, if not then it's up to you to say no, then,"

"Okay, so you want to take care of me, but what do you get out of it?"

"People ain't been good to me either, darlin', you are and that's all that I want out of it,"

"Yeah, but this is how we treat each other all the time, you take care of me, I'm good to you, whatever, what do we get from being involved with each other?" I asked.

"We get this," he said, grabbing me and then kissing me, and that's when it all made since and we clicked. Something inside of me snapped, giving full way to him, to being with him, to loving him, to kissing him. I reached my hands up to hold his face and realized that I still had on my boxing gloves and began to laugh.

"If this isn't sexy, I don't know what is," I said with a laugh. "Two mutants making out in the gym of a school, in our pajamas, in the middle of the night and me, with my boxing gloves on,"

"Didn't I tell you, kid?"

"Tell me what?"

"Boxing gloves turn me on," he said with a smirk. I laughed and continued to laugh until I snorted.

"Are you still sure about this, I'm kind of a little geeky for you?"

He once again pushed the hair out of my eyes as I draped my arms around his neck, looking up and smiling at him. "That's alright with me,"


	5. The Halloween Dance

Disclaimer: No woman, no cry. No rights, no sue. Please enjoy.

The rest of the summer went well and that fall I went to school at a college not too far from the mansion, while Logan started teaching a self-defense class for students, which is where I was going on the last Friday in October. I walked into the classroom just as he had dismissed everyone.

"What are you doin' home this early?" he asked, glancing up at the clock that showed it was only three in the afternoon and I usually didn't get home until after five.

"I snuck off because I missed you," I said with a smile. He gave me an un-believing smile and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Alright, the teachers let us out early for the holidays,"

"Holidays?"

"Where have you been, Halloween is_ this_ Sunday?"

"So they let you out early today?" he asked, straightening up the room. I helped him with moving the chairs and desks back into place.

"Most people are going to parties tonight and all weekend,"

"Are you?"

"Have I told you about any?"

"No,"

"Then I don't suppose I am,"

"You should,"

"And why should I, again?"

"You might have fun,"

"We don't have any costumes,"

"We?"

"Yeah, if I'm going anywhere you would have to go with me, I'm not going by myself," I said, looking over at him.

"I'm not wearin' a costume, darlin'," he said.

"Well you don't have to right now, because we're not going anywhere,"

"What do you mean not right now?"

"I mean that you're dressing up for Sunday, right? I thought everyone was?"

"No, I'm not,"

"Oh come on, Logan, why not?"

"Because I said I'm not going to,"

"Then I suppose you'll have to find another date to the party, then," I said with a smirk. The Professor was giving a Halloween party for all of the students and teachers.

"I guess so," he said, mirroring my smirk with his own.

"You are such a killjoy,"

"Excuse me?" he asked, walking over to me where I was standing in front of his desk with my hands on my hips.

"I said that you were a killjoy and no fun," I said, then added, "Mr. Logan,"

"I'm no fun?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to him.

"Nope,"

"Too bad you think that,"

"And why is it too bad?"

"Because I'm a lot of fun, darlin',"

"Really? You just might have to prove it to me," I said. He moved his mouth closer to mine, but I stopped him before our lips touched. "You can't kiss me unless you say that you'll dress up for Sunday,"

"Alright,"

"No, you have to say it and you have to promise me,"

"I promise that I'll wear a stupid costume for Sunday,"

"Ah, that's my sweet little Wolvie," I said in a mocking baby talk voice. "And I didn't say it had to be stupid, I just said that you had to dress up, honestly Logan, I don't think you ever listen to me,"

"Shut up and kiss me, darlin'," he said with his coy smile.

"Don't tell me to shut up, Logan," I said, kissing him.

"Mr. Logan," someone said sheepishly, interrupting us. He pulled away and turned around to see one of the students name Cara standing in the doorway of the classroom. She was pretty new there; she had arrived at the end of August and had been named Chameleon by the other students because she could change her skin, hair and eye colors to blind in with her surroundings.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, I think that I left my purse in here, did you happen to see it?"

"Is it a little blue lookin' thing?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, slightly blushing. She had a crush on Logan, and quite frankly, I didn't blame her.

"Yeah, it's over here," he said, walking to the window, picking up her purse, and handing it to her.

"Thank you Mr. Logan,"

"Don't worry about it," he said, watching her leave.

"Oh, and sir, Mr. Summers said that they need you to help with setting up some of the things for Sunday," she said as she paused in the doorway, turning back around.

"Alright, thanks," he said with a small smile and then she left.

"You better get to it, I hear that he's setting up a karaoke table," I said with a laugh.

"That's what we need; One-eye singin' all night," he said as I walked over to where he was standing.

"Well, I'm going to go put on something more comfortable and see if Jean and Storm don't need some help, too," I said, giving him a quick kiss.

"Alright, I'll see you at dinner then," he said, tucking a curl behind my ear and running his hand down the side of my face.

I laughed. "That tickles," I said, and then I gave him another kiss. "I'll see you later tonight,"

* * *

Sunday night I was in my room getting ready when someone knocked on my door. I walked to it, opened it and saw Logan standing in the hall, not dressed up.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No and neither are you, it looks like," I said.

"I'm in a costume," he said, standing back so that I could see all of him. He was wearing boots, blue jeans, his belt buckle and a red plaid flannel shirt.

"How is that a costume?" I asked.

"I'm a lumberjack," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "You can come in, I'll be done in a little bit; I've just got a few things left to put on,"

He sat in a chair that sat beside my mirror. "What are you supposed to be?" he asked as I went into the bathroom to pull my hair into a bun.

"I should have been a tree," I said, looking at him and giving him a smile. "I'm a fairy." I was wearing a purple slip dress, purple ballet shoes and I had covered myself in glitter. After I pulled up my hair, I stuck in some artificial flowers and bits of fake ivy into it, making a wreath around the bun. I had gone out the day before to buy everything that I needed and spent most of that night dying everything the right color. I had never bought a costume, I had always made them, and I was very proud of my fairy costume.

"Alright, I'm ready," I said, putting on a little bit of lip-gloss and walking from the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror.

"Don't fairies have wings?" he asked.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot, thank you," I said, rushing to get the set of wings that I had made from my bed. I slipped them on and tried to tie the ribbon in the back, but I couldn't reach it. "Can you tie this for me?" I asked, turning my back to him.

He tied the ribbon and then ran his hand down my bare arm, sending shivers across my body and covering me in goose bumps. He stopped his hand at mine and held it, intertwining his fingers with mine. He leaned his head down and left a trail of kisses down my neck.

"You're beautiful," he whispered in my ear, sending a new wave of goose bumps over my skin. I wanted to say something, I wanted to say thank you, but I couldn't. For one breath taking moment, I was speechless. I couldn't do anything as he stood there holding me hand, nuzzling my neck with his nose, leaving the feeling of his hot breath on my bare skin as he kissed my neck and shoulders. He kissed my neck up to my ear. "I love you, Haven," he breathed in his deep voice.

My breathing shook as I tried to find my voice. "I love you, too," I whispered back to him.

"Hey guys, we need some help down stairs,"

Logan and I both spun around to see that my bedroom door had been left open and that Scott was standing in my doorway wearing his Santa Claus costume. Yes, he and Jean were Santa and Mrs. Claus.

"Alright, we'll be down in a second," I said with a smile.

He looked from Logan, to me and then back to Logan. "Okay," he said, shrugging, then turned and walked away, going down the hall singing "The Monster Mash" in the most off-key version I had ever heard. I just shook my head.

"I guess we better go give them a hand," I said, looking up at him.

He nodded his head. "Yeah,"

We stood there silent for a moment and then I reached up and held his face in my hands, pulled him closer to me and kissed him. "I really do love you Logan," I whispered against his lips. "I always have,"

"Wow, you look beautiful!" Rouge said to me as Logan and I walked into the decorated dining room. She and Bobby had dressed as Alice and the Mad Hatter from 'Alice in Wonderland'.

"Thank you," I replied.

"Logan, what are you supposed to be?" she asked.

"He's a lumberjack," I said, rolling my eyes.

"That's original," she said with a wink. "I better go see where Bobby's gone off to,"

"Alright," I said as she left.

The night was fun and while Logan and I were keeping an eye on the kids, I tried to get him to dance with me, but he wouldn't.

"Logan, if you're not going to dance with her, may I?" Scott asked. He had already taken off his hat, beard and coat, leaving him just looking very oddly dressed.

"Yes you may," I said, not waiting for Logan to respond. Scott took my hand and led me out into the middle of the room and we danced to the 'Transylvania Twist'.

"So, if anything happens between you and Logan I'll be the first to know, right? No questions," Scott said to me.

"That's not what I told you,"

"I think it is,"

"No, what I said was that if Logan were taking advantage of me while I was vulnerable I would tell you, that's not what happened,"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, it was as much me as it was him,"

"I probably should still have a talk with him,"

"About what?"

"Guy stuff,"

"Guy stuff? Really now, and what sort of things are considered 'guy stuff'?"

"It's just about being respectable,"

"So far he has been,"

"Yeah, it's the 'so far' that worries me. Does it not bother you that he's so much older than you?"

"No, because I don't know how old he is, so obviously, age doesn't mean anything,"

"Shouldn't it?"

"I don't know. We get along, we have fun together, we love each other, I don't know how knowing his age could affect that,"

"Love each other as in you love each other, or you _love_ each other?"

I shook my head. "I'm in love with him Scott, he loves me too,"

"Did he actually _say_ that, though? Because he may just seem like he is, but men are hard to understand sometimes,"

"Yes, he actually said it; he told me that he did. I think he's good for me,"

"You may be better for him; he's like a walking bad habit,"

"You're terrible," I said, just before I heard the Professor in my head.

"You have a phone call from your mother in my office, Haven,"

"Hey, the Professor needs me in his office, I'll be back in a bit," I told Scott as I stopped dancing. I walked out of the dining room, down the hall and to the Professor's office. I opened the door and he indicated to the phone on his desk. I picked handset and he rolled away, leaving me to talk privately.

"Hello?" I said into the phone as soon as I put it to my ear.

"Hey sweetie,"

"Hey momma, what's going on?" I asked, sitting down in the chair in front of the Professor's desk.

"Haven, your Pop had a stroke last week and went to the hospital, I didn't want to call you because we thought he was going to be okay, but he passed away about an hour ago,"

"What? Why didn't you call me if something was wrong?"

"We didn't want to upset you, I was going to call and tell you once he was out of the hospital,"

"What if I wanted to see him? What if I wanted to be down there with him while he was in there?"

"He did ask for you, but we told him that you weren't coming right then,"

"Why? Why didn't you call and tell me that he wanted me there?"

"Because I knew that it would just upset you both,"

"That was not your choice to make,"

"I know sweetheart, I'm sorry,"

I took a second to gather my thoughts and try to process what she was telling me. "When are they having him at the funeral home?"

"Tomorrow night, then they're burring him at morning on Tuesday,"

"Okay, I'll be there then,"

"Are you sure? You don't have to come all the way from New York, I'm sure Nana will understand that you have your life up there,"

"Yes I'm sure, I may have a life up here but I'm not missing Pop's funeral because of it, he's my family, I'm going to be there,"

"Alright, I'll see you at home then, be careful,"

"I will be, bye,"

"Haven?"

"Yeah,"

"I love you, baby,"

"You too, momma," I said and then hung up. I didn't know why, maybe because I didn't believe it was all actually true, but I didn't cry. I just sat there for a moment, collecting my thoughts.

"Are you alright, darlin'?" I craned my neck around and saw Logan standing in the doorway.

"My grandfather died, I have to go back home for the funeral and everything,"

"When do you have to leave?"

"Right now, I need to see if the Professor will call and get me a plane ticket while I go and pack,"

"Do you want me to go with you?"

I opened my mouth to say 'no' but that wasn't what I wanted, I did want him to go with me. "Yeah, if you don't mind,"

"No, I'll go find the Professor and have him call for us while you go and get everything that you need,"

"Yeah, okay," I said standing up. I walked to the door and Logan gave me a hug.

"You don't have to worry about it; we'll stay at a hotel and then leave. I'm gonna' be right there with you, nothing's gonna' happen," he said.

I didn't say anything to him about it, but he knew that I didn't want to go back home. So many bad things had happened to me while I was there, even though logically I knew that no one could hurt me or was going to, I was still scared.

"I know, thank you," I said. I let go of him and went to my room to pack.

I had just enough time to get some of my things together in a bag before Jean came and told me that our flight left in less than an hour. Logan and I quickly drove one of the school's cars to the airport, which was thirty minutes away. Once there, we checked our bags and boarded the plane. I hadn't even had the chance to change from my costume, and Logan helped me take off my wings and stashed them away in the overhead compartment.

The plane was fairly empty, with the exception of a few other adults, most looking much older than me. Logan and I didn't talk much during the flight, he held my hand and some time during the showing of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", we both fell asleep. My dreams were mixed with odd visions of Tim Curry, my Pop's funeral and a lumberjack, then they all faded away and I was left with a dream about him, my mother's boyfriend. We were watching "The Lady and The Tramp" while my mother was getting ready to go out on their date. He had brought a dozen roses for her and had even brought a pink one, just for me. There was a funny part in the movie and he laughed, sending vibrations though the couch. That laugh, it pierced my mind, something that you couldn't forget, something that I hadn't forgotten, but for some reason couldn't place it. I looked up and smiled, and he ruffled my hair. I felt like the cloud was parting, the fog was lifting and I was close to seeing his face. But Logan, who told me that we had landed, woke me from my sleep.

It was early in the morning and we took a taxi to a hotel. We got a double room and as soon as I got through the door, I tossed my bag down and crashed onto the first bed. I wanted to sleep for a few more hours before I had to go anywhere. Logan moved behind me and as I was drifting back to sleep, I felt him take off my shoes and pull the blankets over me. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

"Goodnight," I mumbled to him.

"Goodnight," he said to me, then fell into his own bed.

* * *

I slept for a few hours before I found myself awake, not remembering waking up. I thought about getting up but once I turned over on my side, I saw Logan sleeping and I couldn't make myself move. He looked so beautiful lying there and I could help but just stay there and watch him. After about an hour he rolled over on his back and scratched his chest, then his eyes flicked open and he looked over at me.

"Hey," he said, still sleepy.

"Hey," I said back with a smile.

"What time is it?"

I looked over at the alarm clock facing my bed. "A little after three,"

"What time do you have to be there?"

"I don't know, I'll call my mom and ask," I said, picking up the phone and dialing my mother's home phone number. After three rings, a man answered.

"Hello?" he said.

"Uh, may I speak to Maria?" I asked a little confused.

"She's not here right now; she's at her mother's house,"

"Oh, okay, thank you,"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Haven,"

"Was she expecting you call?"

"No, I was calling to see what time their having my grandfather at the funeral home,"

"Your grandfather? You're not her daughter Haven, are you?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh, she talks about you all the time, she really misses you,"

"Uh, yeah, whatever, who are you?"

"I'm her boyfriend Carl, has she not told you about me?"

"No,"

"Oh,"

"Do you know what time we're supposed to be at the funeral home?"

"Yeah, seven o'clock,"

"Alright, thank you,"

"Yeah, you're welcome, are you going to be there?"

If it had been any normal situation I would have had to fight the urge to have been sarcastic, but seeing as I wasn't in a very good more, all my reply came out as was, "Yeah,"

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting you, I'm just sorry that it couldn't have been under better conditions,"

"Yeah, okay, bye," I said unenthusiastically and hanging up. "We have to be there at seven," I told Logan.

"How far away is it from here?"

"About an hour, I guess," I said. There was only one funeral home in the town where I had grown up, so I didn't even bother to ask at which one he was going to be. "I need a shower; I've got glitter all over me,"

I sat up in bed and looked over at him; he was so good to me. I would have never thought so many months ago that the hot guy who would bring in countless women to a motel for just one night would actually be a good 'boyfriend'. Although I never really called him that, he just didn't fit with the name, but it had been all right with me, he didn't have to be my boyfriend, I was just happy that he was mine.

"Alright," he said, looking over at me. "Come here,"

I moved from my bed over to his as he sat up. I sat down beside him and rested my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and I lay my head against the side of his. I held his arms to me, keeping my warm. That's when it finally hit me; my Pop was gone and I hadn't even had a chance to tell him goodbye, and that's when I started to cry. He didn't say anything to me as I sat there sobbing, he didn't know how to comfort me other than just being there for me. He didn't know what I was going through, and if he did, he had forgotten it. However, it wasn't important that he knew how I felt, what was important to me was that he was doing the best he could, what he knew made me feel better and I had never loved him more for anything that he hadever done.


	6. Living To Remember, Dying To Forget

Disclaimer: I wishI owned Wolverine, sadly I don't, I own no rights to anything from Marvel nor do I from Maroon 5. Although I do own comic books and CDs from both. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

After crying for about half, I finally went to take a shower and wash off all of the glitter from my skin and hair. I wrapped my hair up in a towel and pulled on a pair of pajamas that I had brought with me and when I walked back into the bedroom area I saw that Logan had gone and bought us food.

I smiled. "Well, that was very sweet of you, Logan," I said, going to sit on his bed with him where he was eating.

"I thought you might need something to make you feel better," he said, handing me a bag with a cheeseburger and fries, then he handed me a chocolate milkshake.

"You know, I think that you're the only guy that I've ever gone out with that remembers what I eat at fast food places,"

"Really?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Do you not believe me?"

"No, I do, I just can't imagine someone not wanting to remember everything about you,"

I smiled and blushed a little. "Well…maybe it's unfair to compare you with them,"

"Why?"

"Because none of them ever loved me as much as you do,"

"They're the ones that missed out on it, then,"

"Thank you for coming with me," I said after a few moments while we ate.

"No problem,"

"No, I mean it. Not many people would fly all the way from New York with me just to go to a funeral, and it means a lot to me that you didn't even pause for a second when I said that I wanted you to come with me. My family isn't exactly perfect, but the fact that you're willing to meet them means a lot to me,"

He thought for a moment and then let out a deep breath. "I'd do anything for you, Haven,"

Something was happening to me; I was the happiest I had ever been with Logan, but it was a tainted happiness as I didn't think we ever would have had that conversation if the situation of my grandfather passed away hadn't brought us to it, and for that I was sad. Sad because the one man who had been stable in my life had passed away, he was dead, he was gone and I didn't even get the chance to thank him properly for all that he had given me in my life. My grandparents took me into their home when everyone thought that I should have been shipped away to a reform school. They had both given up a lot for me and the pure, simple fact that he had never seen me do anything better with my life ate away at me. I realized that it had been nearly two years since I had seen them, making myself wonder why I had let my fear of going home keep my away from the only family I had. At that moment, I banned myself from any more thoughts of my mother's boyfriend that was in Canada. He wasn't part of my life anymore, and I realized that it was a waste of time to try to remember him when my mind was so adamant about blocking him out. I had a real family, a real person that I loved, someone that I could hold onto; a real set of friends that were grounded in what they truly believed in, and agreed with everything that I believed. That was all I needed and from that point on, I promised myself that I would not spend the rest of my life chasing after a person that even if I did remember him, I wouldn't know what to do with the information. I was going to pay my full attention to the ones who were there with me. It wasn't easy to give up; I had been having dreams of him almost every night since I had moved to Canada, but when I was prepared to give up was so little compared to what Logan had been offering me.

* * *

Logan and I arrived at the funeral home a little after seven o'clock that night. I went to try to find my grandmother, and on the way, we met a few of my grandparent's friends who all told me how sorry they were about my grandfather and gave me their most sympathetic looks. We finally made it into the parlor room and I saw my grandmother sitting in a chair, next to my grandfather's casket. Seeing him in there made me cringe and I turned away. My breathing caught and I fought a lump in my throat, as tears threatened to flood my eyes.

"Are you alright?" Logan asked me.

I took my time trying to calm my breath. I slowly nodded my head. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said quietly.

After a moment of trying to collect myself, I turned back around and walked straight to my grandmother. When she saw me, she stood and hugged me tightly.

"Oh Haven, sweetheart," she said, crying.

"I'm so sorry, Nana," I said, hugging her back, still fighting against my own tears.

She pulled away and placed her hand on my cheek, looking me over. "Have you been eating? You look so thin," she said and I couldn't help but laugh. That was my Nana; even in times of deep depression of her own, she put it all aside to focus on me.

"Yeah, I've just been working out," I said, wiping a small tear from my eye.

"How's school going?"

"It's going good,"

"Good, good," she said, moving her hand, grabbing mine and petting it. "And who is this with you?"

I turned around to look at Logan, took his arm and link mine with his. "Nana, this is Logan. Logan, this is my Nana," I said, introducing them.

She reached out her free hand to shake his. "You take good care of my sweet little Haven; she deserves to have it good from now on,"

"I will, you don't have to worry about her," he said.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad that you're here, you mother said she didn't know whether or not you were going to be able to make it,"

"I told her that I was coming straight down here,"

"Oh, well she told me that you were busy and not to expect you,"

"Where is she? I would like to talk to her," I said, more that a little upset. Why had she told Nana that she didn't think I was coming when I had plainly told her that I was?"

"She's in the kitchen with Carl,"

"Alright, I'm going to go see her," I said.

"Okay," she said, giving Logan and me a kind smile before we walked off.

I led him into the kitchen, which was there for people to bring food to the family, for people to sit and have coffee, and there was a door to go out to a smoking area. I wasn't sure if it was just a southern thing to have them at funeral homes or not, I had never attended a funeral outside of the south.

We walked into the room where there was no one but a man sitting at a table by himself, drinking from a coffee cup, with another cup sitting on the table beside him.

"Have you seen a slightly tall woman, with dark curly hair in here?" I asked the man.

"Maria?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah, she was just in here but she stepped outside for a little bit,"

"Okay, thanks," I said, managing a weak smile.

"Are you…Haven?" he asked.

I paused for a moment, looking him over. "Yeah,"

"Wow, you look just like your mother. I'm Carl," he said, standing to shake my hand.

"Oh, hi," I said unenthusiastically, shaking his hand.

"Why don't you sit? Your mother should be back soon," he told me, motioning to the two seats across from his own and the empty chair beside it, which I assumed was my mother's seat.

"Alright," I said, sitting down.

Logan bent down to me and said, "I'll be right back," into my ear.

I assumed he had to go to the bathroom, so I just said. "Alright," and let him go. Then he walked out of the room and left me in there with Carl.

"So, is that your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yeah,"

"How long have you been dating?"

"Since the beginning of summer,"

"Wow, that's a long time,"

"Are you being patronizing?" I asked.

"No," he said, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"I know that you're dating my mother, but you don't have to treat me like a child. I'm twenty-two, not twelve, and five months is not a long time to be dating someone. If you think that, then perhaps we need to have a discussion about how long you've been dating my mother and how long it's going to take for you to take advantage of her,"

"Excuse me?"

"I think you heard me quite clearly,"

"I think I did, but why would you think that I would take advantage of Maria?"

"Because every man she's ever dated has,"

"Well, maybe I'm not like any other men she's dated,"

"For her sake, I hope you're not," I said just before she walked into the room.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so glad that you're here," she said, rushing to hug me.

"Why did you tell Nana not to expect me because I was busy at home?" I asked.

"Because if you changed your mind I didn't want her to think that you just didn't care,"

"Why do you keep doing that? You liked to Pop, you lied to Nana, I'm used to you lying to me, you've done that all of my life, but don't lie to them about serious stuff like that,"

"I didn't lie,"

"No, you were just telling them something that wasn't the truth because you were afraid that it would look bad on you,"

"How would it look bad on me?"

"You thought that if you told me about Pop or if you told Nana that I was coming and I didn't, everyone would know that I didn't want to be here because of you,"

"I know that you don't like coming home,"

"But it's not their fault, so I would come home for them,"

I was ready for her to argue back her instead her eyes became fixated on the doorway.

"James?" she asked, sounding confused.

That name, James, something in my mind clicked and I remembered that was _his_ name. My teddy bear's name was Peaches because he had given it to me and my favorite book was 'James and the Giant Peach'.

I looked to the doorway to see Logan entering the room, coming back to sit with me.

"Maria, are you okay?" Carl asked my mother as he noticed her sudden change of mood.

"James, what are you doing here?" my mother asked Logan, ignoring Carl.

Logan looked at her curiously. "Momma, this is Logan, he's my boyfriend," I said.

"Logan? No, his name is James! Don't you remember him?" she said, looked to me with desperation in her eyes.

"Remember him from where?" I asked.

"When we lived in Canada, we dated for nearly a year, you have to remember!" she said to me.

And in that moment, a flash of memories flooded my mind, all of the dreams that I had had of a man with no face were suddenly pushed to the front of my mind, filling the clouded space with Logan. The laugh, the feeling of his hands, they all belonged to Logan. I was tempted not to believe it, how could it have been possible? That's when I realized that I was six years old when we left, Logan couldn't remember anything past sixteen years at that point, it all added up and I did everything I could not to run from the room.

"No, you've got to be wrong, there's no way that could be true, I would have remembered," I argued, trying to make myself drown in from my thoughts, but I couldn't.

How could I not have remembered him? How could I let myself fall in love with the same man that had been like a father to me? I didn't know but as all of the information was rushing at me, I realized that I had begun having my dreams after I had moved to Canada again and was working in the motel, right after I had seen Logan for the first time. I looked over at him and knew that he didn't remember any of it.

"I'm not wrong, didn't he tell you who he was?" my mother asked.

"He doesn't remember," I said lamely, trying to allow everything to absorb.

"Those medical experiments, they gave you amnesia, didn't they? They told you that it would, I told you not to have it done, you should have listened to me," my mother said to Logan.

He looked confused and out of place standing there trying to understand what my mother was saying. Rarely ever had I seen Logan look slightly scared, but right then he did. I wanted to remember it all, and yet I wanted to forget everything, but most of all I never wanted to see him looking like that ever again. His eyes darted back and forth between my mother and me, trying to make sense of what was being said.

"I knew that I was going to forget everything?" he finally asked.

"You chose to give up marrying me to have the tests done on you," she said.

"You were going to get married?" I asked.

"We had talked about it and yes, we were going to but those men offered him money to help them and he left us. How could you do that to me, to Haven? You told me that she was like your daughter, and you felt like a father to her, but you threw it all away for money."

"I didn't," he said, still looking confused and shaking his head.

"Yes, you did and I would appreciate it if you would leave," she said to him.

He didn't say anything else, he just nodded his head and left. I was too shocked to follow him. I wanted to know more.

"So we left because he had those experiments done on him and he couldn't remember us?" I asked.

"No, I would have stayed with him through it all, but," she said, stopping.

"But what?" I asked with desperation.

"He was a _mutant_…he still is,"

The sound of the way she said the word 'mutant', making it roll off her tongue in a disgusting, painful way, the sound of it filled with anger, contaminating it with hate and fear, made me snap back into my own reality.

"I have to go find him," I muttered, more to myself than anyone.

"No, you don't need to," she said.

"Why?"

"Haven, he a liar and a mutant, there's no telling what he will do to you,"

"You're a liar, that doesn't mean you're going to hurt me, does it?"

"I'm not a _mutant_," she spat.

"There's nothing wrong with being a mutant, and he would never hurt me, don't _ever _accuse him of that," I said and then left.

I left the one person behind that could answer all of my questions to find Logan, who was at the center of my curiosity to begin with. I found him sitting in the car that we had rented and I opened the door to sit in it with him.

"Can we leave?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said, staring the car.

We drove back to the hotel in silence, both of us busy with our own thoughts. When we got to our room, I went to change into my pajamas and take off my makeup. When I came out, Logan was already in bed. I sat down on mine and stared at him for a moment, he stared back at me.

"I don't want to be by myself tonight," I said.

Without a word, Logan moved over in his bed and threw back the covers. I placed my two pillows on his bed and lay down beside him. He pulled the covers up around us and wrapped his arm around my body, holding me to him. I curled up into a ball and he held me all through the night.

* * *

The next morning we drove down to see my Pop's funeral and stayed behind some so that my mother wouldn't see us, but she wasn't there. Logan wrapped his arm around me shoulder to comfort me as the buried him.

On the way to the airport, we stopped to get something to eat at a fast food restaurant and we sat in the car eating.

"You know we're going to have to talk about it, right?" I asked.

"Yeah,"

"I can ask her what you want,"

"No,"

"She has answers, though; she might help you remember who you were,"

"Listen, we both heard what she said, I left you both because Stryker was gonna' pay me for what he did to me, that's not something that I want to remember,"

"Are you sure?"

He looked at me, staring me right in the eyes. "This is it Haven, this is it right now, if we spend time remembering that then it's just gonna' screw this up,"

"It's already a little screwed up; she can help you figure out a part of your past that I can barely remember,"

"I don't care,"

"Why?"

"I don't want to remember it all because I want to be with you,"

"Why can't you be with me if you remember it?"

"She said that I thought of you like a daughter, how…" he said, taking a deep breath and looking away from me. "How could I think of you the way I do now if I remembered how I used to think of you?"

"I'm not that same little girl anymore, Logan; I've changed so much since then. I've seen so much more, I've been through so much more, it would be so unfair of me to make you chose me over something so important as your memory,"

"You're not making me, Haven," he said, a little frustrated. "I can find someone else to help me with my memory, the Professor can help me, but I haven't been able to remember for sixteen years and if I want to give that up for you then it's my choice, darlin'. It doesn't matter if you've changed; I'm not doing it,"

"Okay," I said quietly, looking out my window as he began to drive again.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry with you," he said, picking up my hand and kissing it. "I know you're having it rough, it's just that this isn't something that I had planned on happening, I know you didn't either, but if we're gonna' do this then we have to get over it,"

"I know," I said, fighting back tears.

I was confused as I had been the day before, if not more so. There was this reassuring proof that Logan loved me, he was willing to give up what he had been searching for, or a small part of it at least, for me. He was the first person in my life to sacrifice something that they had wanted that badly just to be with me. However, there was a cloud hanging over my happiness, there was a strong feeling of taboo just to be dating him. He was engaged to my mother, he was going to be my stepfather and I was going to be his stepdaughter. It all played through my head like a bad movie, the drama good enough to be a soap opera. But it wasn't, it was real life, it was my life. Almost everything inside of me was screaming 'but that's not what happened!' while that small, tiny part of me, the one that yelled the loudest said 'you still thought of him as a father figure'. Both were right, but I tried to keep the voices out of my head, I didn't want to hear their points, I didn't want to hear anything that they had to say, I just wanted to forget everything. The whole flight back home I was jealous of Logan for forgetting it all and I wondered it there was anyway that the Professor could help me to forget on my own.

* * *

The next few weeks were hard, I had a lot of homework to catch up on and Logan was busy trying to get the students ready to take off for Thanksgiving break. We had made plans to go out for three weeks and every week something had come up. Finally, the night of Thanksgiving we got to sit in the den together, while I did my homework and he graded tests. We put it all away and decided to watch "The Sixth Sense" together on TV, sadly by the time the little creepy kid was whispering out his 'I see dead people' line, I had fallen asleep.

When I woke up I was in my room and it was past ten o'clock the next morning. I went downstairs to try to find something to eat and realized that everyone was gone. They had all gone out shopping. The mansion was a little creepy when it was empty. After eating some cereal, I went to the music room to play the piano. I had written a song that was stuck in my head and I wanted to get it out. As I sat down I began playing and singing my song.

"_It's like a rose that's lost its color. It's like a song that has no name. You can make up your own life story, but it's still haunting all the same._

_Bittersweet amnesia running through my mind, bittersweet amnesia, remembering from time to time, or the things I've lost and the ones I've loved, I don't know what I'm dreaming of. Bittersweet amnesia has taken over me again._

_It's like a star that's faded out. It's like a storm without the rain. You don't remember why you're here, but I'm glad that you've decided to stay._

_Bittersweet amnesia running through my mind, bittersweet amnesia, remembering from time to time, or the things I've lost and the ones I've loved, I don't know what I'm dreaming of. Bittersweet amnesia has taken over me again._

_I'm not sure if we've ever met before, I would like to think I'm not someone you could forget. I'm not sure that we've kissed before this, but I don't think it's something I could regret._

_We can't remember out lives, but now all we have is time, to build back what we've lost, to win a fight that we've both fought. So please stay with me right now and maybe in the morning we'll remember some how._

_Bittersweet amnesia running through my mind, bittersweet amnesia, remembering from time to time, or the things I've lost and the ones I've loved, I can't remember what I'm dreaming of. Bittersweet amnesia, oh bittersweet, some things are better left forgotten,"_

"Did you write that?"

I spun around on the piano bench and saw Logan standing a few feet away. "You scared me," I said, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I wrote it a few months ago,"

"A few months ago?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"I've changed a few words since then," I admitted.

He stood there for a moment, not saying anything, and then he walked over to me, pulled me up and kissed me. He kissed me in a way that he hadn't kissed me in weeks, a more passionate way. It was as if I had been gone and he had waited so long to see me and kiss me. He slowly moved from my mouth and kissed up along side my jaw line, he then made a trail down my neck, grazing his teeth against my skin, then going back and following the path he had made with kisses. He kissed down to my collarbone.

"No," I said, choking to get the word out.

He paused, his mouth hovering over my skin. "Yeah?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah," I said. He moved his head back up so that I could see his face. He placed his hand on my cheek and I held it there with my hand. "I wanted you to stay with us; I thought you were going to be my father. I felt like so many of my problems could have been solved if you had stayed. I prayed so many nights that you would come find us and take care of us. I know that you don't remember it, but I do," I told him, tears running from my eyes, down my face.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna' leave you now,"

I hugged him, laying my head on his shoulder. I tried to fight the words that were forcing themselves from my mouth, but I had never been very good at keeping what I was thinking from anyone, especially Logan. He always knew what was on my mind, good or bad, because I always told him, but this was something I didn't want to admit. I wouldn't be able to throw it out to see how he reacted to it and then take it back. Once it was out, that was going to be it. But aside from not hiding my thoughts from Logan, I also wasn't very delicate. Maybe it was because no one had every handled me in a manner that I could learn from. If I loved you, it was with all of my heart, and if I hated you, it was with the exact same level of passion as my love, just opposite in feeling. I didn't hate Logan, not in the least bit, but I couldn't allow myself to love him the way that I had. So, for once in my life my feelings for someone were stuck in a passionate limbo, a part of hell that I didn't want to go to, in order to further explain my feelings, so I took the traitor's way out.

"I can't do this anymore," I cried. "I want to, but I can't, not with how I feel, not that I remember everything now. I want to still be in love with you the way that I was and I don't know how to do that,"

I heard him let out a shaking breath. "Are you sure?"

I let go of him and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Yeah," I said, nodding my head.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "I'll always love you, kid," he said. Then, he walked away.


	7. Wedding Bells Ringing In My Ear

Disclaimer: Same old stuff, I don't own the rights to anything. This is the last chapter, though, so I hope everyone has enjoyed reading it and enjoys this.

I stayed at the mansion for the rest of the school year. It was a little sad having to see Logan every day, but it wasn't awkward. He just wasn't someone that I felt awkward or uncomfortable around.

Everyone treated me far too nice, being careful not to mention his name around me, but soon they saw that it was okay. No one ever asked why we broke up, but I could tell that they were all wondering why two people who got along as well as the two of us had would end what seemed like a perfect relationship. No one had known about the whole Logan/James thing, with the exception of the Professor who had known it since I had arrived there and he had read my mind. However, he, of course, refused to put up a memory block for me in my mine so that I could forget. Scott had asked me plenty of times if I wanted him to talk to Logan for me, but for Scott's sake, I said no. Logan would have ripped him apart if he went prying about the topic, and aside from that, it wasn't his fault, I had broken up with him.

* * *

Once school was out, I moved back to Tennessee to help take care of my grandmother, who, sadly, passed away a year and a half after my Pop. My mother had disappeared, just like my father. She had gone missing the day of my Pop's funeral and no one had seen her since. So, I transferred to a college near my Nana's house and began my like over again. After a few months of being back at home, I met a man named Steven who was a few years older than me and studying to become an accountant. We dated for a year and a half before he proposed to me and I accepted.

It had been nearly two years since I had moved back home when I received a birth announcement in the mail, while Steven and I were getting ready to go pick out a wedding cake. We only had two months to go before our wedding and I had been putting everything off.

"Who had a baby?" Steven asked me, pulling a bottle of water from my refrigerator.

"Jean and Scott," I said with a smile, still reading the card.

"Who?"

I looked at him from over the card. "My friends Jean and Scott, they work at Professor Xavier's school for the gifted up in Westchester,"

"Oh right, that school that you used to live at,"

"Yeah," I said as he grabbed the announcement from my hands to read. "They're having a party to celebrate,"

"So are you just going to send them a little present in the mail?"

"What? No, why would I do that?"

"I don't know, I just didn't think you would want to see them again. I mean, you haven't visited them since you moved back,"

"I haven't had the chance," I said defensively. "You're going to be up there around that time, right? You're having that business meeting, or something, aren't you?"

"Yeah, it's the day after this,"

"Okay, so I'll just go with you, we'll go to the party together and then you can go to your meeting the next day,"

"What kind of a name is 'Oreo Munroe'?" he asked.

I laughed and shook my head. "It's Ororo, actually," I corrected. Storm and the Professor had been named their baby's Godparents.

"Oh, well at least they gave the kid a normal name." They had named their baby girl Ava Rayn Summers. "I don't like how they spelled Rayn, though, that's a little weird,"

"Hey, I picked it out," I defended.

"Oh, well….it's not _too_ bad," he said.

I just shook my head. I hated it when he did that. I didn't want him to apologize for his opinion, it made me feel like I had to do the same, and I didn't like to apologize for mine because I usually had a very strong one about the topic, whatever it may have been. I didn't feel it necessary to pretend not to have a difference in personal beliefs and views. It was one of the many reasons I had been delaying looking for a cake. I wanted to know what he wanted because it made it a little easier to tell him what I wanted, and at that point, it hadn't stopped at just the cake; it was about everything.

He lovingly rubbed my back, which he always did after disagreeing with me and trying to make up for it. I gave him a weak smile and he leaned over and kissed me. I won't lie, but I wished that it wasn't he who was kissing me; he was too weak. I wanted him to kiss me in full on passion every time, claiming me as his. I wanted him to kiss me as if it was the first time that we had kissed and he had been dreaming about it forever. No, I didn't want _him_ to kiss me like that, I wanted someone else to, someone who knew what I wanted and could give it to me, no questions asked. _That's_ what I wanted, and I knew I couldn't tell him that.

* * *

"Haven, oh my word, how are you?" Jean asked, grabbing me and hugging me.

"I'm great, how are you? You look wonderful, and you know whether I'm lying or not! I said back.

"Thank you, I'm doing fantastic, it's been wonderful," she said with a smile.

"Hey, why aren't you asking how I'm doing?" Scott asked.

"Well, how are you doing, _dad_?" I asked, hugging him and he beamed.

Steven and I had made it up to New York in time for the party, where Jean and Scott greeted us at the door.

"I'm doing good, I'm glad that you could make it," he said, ending our hug and looking over at Steven. I could tell that he was sizing him up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, this is Steven," I said, introducing him.

"Oh, you fiancé!" Jean said, shaking his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you,"

"Steven, this is Jean and Scott,"

"Oh, right, then you too, then! I've heard quite a bit about the two of you," he lied and I saw Jean give me a coy smile. I smiled back apologetically and shrugged my shoulders. She knew that I didn't really get into detail about my stay at the school because I was afraid that it would lead to me having to lie about being a mutant, which I didn't enjoy doing.

"Oh, this is for the baby," I said, handing Scott a box. "And this is for you, Jean, I thought you might need a little pick me up if you ever get any free time,"

"Aw, thank you, that was very sweet, but speaking of which, I have to go find Ororo, she has my daughter," Jean said.

"Alright," I said.

"You guys have fun," she said, walking away.

Steven and I walked around for a while, saying 'hi' to a few people that I hadn't spoken to since I had left. I ran into Rouge filling up a cup with punch and decided to get some as well after we finished talking.

"Hey kid," I heard a voice growl low from behind me.

"Hey old man," I said, and then turned around to face Logan, who was standing right in front of me.

"I heard you got hitched?" he said.

"_Getting_ hitched, actually," I said, holding up my hand, showing him my ring. He hadn't changed a bit since I had seen him last. "Aren't I getting a little too old for you to still be calling me 'kid'?"

"No," he said with a smirk. "Who's this?"

"This is Steven," I said.

"Her fiancé," Steven interjected, reaching out to shake his hand.

I hated the way he flaunted the title 'fiancé', as if it make him better than the person to whom he was being introduced.

"Yeah," I said unenthusiastically. "Steven, this is Logan,"

"Oh, the ex-boyfriend," he said.

I rolled my eyes and turned up my glass of punch, hoping that someone had spiked it.

"Yeah, that's me," Logan said dryly.

"I heard you and Ororo were going out?" I said.

"Me and Ro' ain't going out, who told you that?"

"Someone," I said with a wink. Rouge had told me that the two of them were 'hanging out' more than usual; she hadn't actually said they were going out, though.

"So, did you miss me?"

"No," I lied with a small smirk.

"Good, me either,"

"You are such a pig-headed,"

"Canadian freak, I know," he said, interrupting me.

"You forgot male whore," I said.

"You got yourself a winner there," Logan said, smacking Steven on the back and walking off.

"You're still a jerk," I called after him.

"And you've still got problems, darlin'," he said back to me, giving me a small glance with a cocked eyebrow.

"I thought you said that the two of you got along well with each other?" Steven asked once he was gone.

"We do,"

"It doesn't seem like you do anymore,"

"That _is_ how we get along,"

"By calling each other names?"

"Yeah,"

"Is that _healthy_?"

I shrugged. "It worked for us at the time,"

"Well, we see how that ended up,"

"Logan and I didn't break up because of that,"

"Why _did_ you break up, you never told me?"

"There was something that just couldn't be worked through so we had to let go of it,"

"Let go of what?"

Why did he always need a more descriptive answer than what I gave him? "Our relationship,"

"It must not have been to serious of a relationship if he broke up with you because you couldn't work through something,"

"I broke up with him, he didn't break up with me and our relationship was quite serious, actually,"

"So what was it that you just couldn't work through, then?"

"It's in the past Steven, it's never going to affect us, so don't worry about it,"

"Everything is in the past to you, why don't you ever want to talk about it?"

"You know what, I'm here to have a good time, celebrate a little and have some fun, you should, too,"

"To be quite honest, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable here, how long are you planning on staying?"

"Actually, why don't you go ahead and head back to the hotel? I think I'm going to stay the night here, and since you _accidentally_ only got one room instead of two by mistake, I think it might be better,"

"I can try and get another room, you don't have to stay here," he argued, but I knew he _wouldn't_ try.

"No, it's fine, I've still got my bags in the car and everything and it'll be easier,"

"Well, do you just want me to pick you up after my meeting, then?"

"I think I can probably get one of them to drop me off, so actually it won't be a problem for you, take your time at the meeting,"

"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm positive," I said with a smile. "You need some rest and I need to catch up with everyone, it'll be perfect,"

"Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, leaning in to kiss me, but I turned my face so his lips landed on my cheek. "Not in public, right?"

"Sorry," I apologized half-heartedly.

"I love you, sweetheart," he said.

"You too," I replied, "bye."

"Bye," he said, giving me another kiss on the check, but on purpose that time.

* * *

I couldn't sleep, it was too hot and I just couldn't get comfortable, so I decided to go downstairs to the kitchen and raid the freezer for ice cream.

I turned to walk into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, sitting on a stool at the island in the middle of the room. He was shirtless and I was just as mesmerized by his body as I was the first day I had seen him.

"Purr," I said, letting the sound roll off of my tongue.

He looked at me from over his shoulder.

"Way to be discreet," he said to me, looking back at his food.

I walked the rest of the way into the room, going to stand beside him and leaned up against the counter.

"Since when have I ever been discreet?" I asked. He didn't say anything. "What are you eating?"

"Some kind of Chinese stuff," he said, tipping the carton so that I could see the noodles.

"Doesn't look too bad, is there anymore?"

"No, here, have a bite of this," he said, picking up a noodle and dangling it over my mouth.

"I hope your hands are clean," I said, tilting my head back and allowing him to drop them in my mouth. "Oh, these are gross!" He laughed as I rushed to the garbage to spit them out. "Yuck, I didn't want real food anyway, is there any ice-cream here?"

"There's probably some in the back of the freezer that Jean hid," he said, returning to his own food.

I searched around until I finally found a half-eaten, half-gallon carton of Rocky Road ice cream. I carefully dipped myself out a bowel before I returned it to its hiding place and sat down in the chair across from Logan to eat. We didn't say anything else for a while, and soon Jean came in carrying Ava.

"Sorry, it's lunch time," she said, going to the refrigerator. "Ah, there's no milk made,"

"Do you want me to hold her while you make some?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, walking over to me and carefully placing Ava in my arms. "Here you just, it'll just take a minute,"

I smiled down at Ava; she was so beautiful. She let me hold her for a few moments before she began to cry.

"Oh, shh, its okay Ava, mommy's fixing your lunch. Ah, shh, beautiful baby," I cooed softly, rocking her. I looked up at Logan and he smiled at me a little as she stopped crying. "Have you held her yet?" I asked him.

I heard Jean laugh as she stirred the baby formula with water to make the milk. "No," he said.

"He'll fight anyone you put him up against, but give him a little baby to hold and he gets terrified," she said, pouring the milk into an empty bottle, putting the rest into the refrigerator and coming to get her from me.

"I'm not terrified of holding a baby," he said, looking frustrated.

"Okay, whatever you say, I've got to go feed this baby, she's waited long enough," Jean said, more to Ava than us, though. She gave me a wink as she left the room.

He waited a while after she was gone before he spoke again. "Is that Steven guy good to you?"

"Yeah, he is actually," I said, stirring my ice cream with my spoon.

"So you're gonna' move to the suburbs, have a dog and a couple of kids, right?"

"No, he's allergic to dogs and I don't want kids,"

"Since when?"

"Since we broke up,"

He paused for a second. "Do you love him?"

"No,"

"Why are you marrying him?"

"Because he's good to me, we get along well enough, he's emotionally and financially stable, aside from being in love with him, he's got everything that I need,"

"What about what you want?" he asked, staring into my eyes.

"No one's ever been able to give me what I want Logan, except for you,"

"You always told me what you wanted,"

"Because I knew that you could give it to me,"

"And he can't?"

"He doesn't even come close, as much as I hate to say it, but it's true,"

"There's plenty of guys out there, why can't you find one that you like?"

"I think you underestimate yourself, Logan,"

"How's that?"

"No one is ever going to be able to love me like you did; you spoiled me just a little bit. No only that, but I've never loved anyone else like I loved you, no one really holds up to your standards," He just stared at me for a moment. "Just thought you should know," I said, eating my melting ice cream.

"What _do_ you want, Haven?" he finally asked.

I thought for a second, trying to figure out how to word it clear and properly. "I want you to kiss me,"

"How?"

"Like you haven't seen me in two years and that's all you've been thinking about,"

He tipped back his bottle of water for a drink before standing up and striding over to me. I stood up from my chair to face him and he trapped me between the island and him, placing a hand on my lower back and the other on my hip. His eyes darted back and forth, looking into mine before I finally closed them, silently pleading for him to just give me what I wanted. He waited, making me wait, and then I felt his hand on my face, his fingers tracing my lips. I opened my eyes and saw him, I looked right into his eyes and I knew that when he had told me that he would always love me, he meant it, and he didn't have to pretend as if he had been thinking of that for two years, because he really had. Logan had played games before, but he was best at that one. Giving me what I wanted was something Logan knew how to do above all others and he knew it. So, he drew it out, taking his time to remember every feature on my face. He started kissing me neck, making his way up, and when I thought he was done, he went to the other side, moving even slower. He moved his way up to my ear and I could hear his deep breathing as he nuzzled his nose into my neck. Finally, he moved back, his lips almost touching mine, but he waited, keeping his nose and forehead against my own. I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself from thinking of Steven and how bad it would hurt him if he ever found out about what I was doing. Then he kissed me, and everything that I had been waiting for was right there. He knew everything about me, how I worked, what I liked, what I did, how to move his mouth so that I felt like he had never wanted to kiss anyone but me. He knew I didn't want everything, just raw emotion and the feeling of his lips crushing down on mine. He had always taken pride in knowing how to make me happy, and doing it. Yes, he knew what I wanted and gave it to me, with no questions asked.

He slowly pulled his lips away and resumed his position of his forehead and nose against mine, his hands back to my lower back and hip. I placed my hands on top of his shoulders and realized that for one, in a very long time, I was breathless.

"I love you Logan," I said and I felt my words sting him like a bad burn.

"I thought you couldn't anymore?" he asked.

"I realized that you and James are two different people. I remember him and I know that you aren't anything like him anymore. You may look the same, but James belonged to my mother and I want you to be mine,"

"You know I am darlin', I always have been,"

I fell into his arms and he held me. I wrapped my arms around him, running my fingers across the muscles on his back.

"Logan, I'm so sorry,"

"For what?"

I pulled away. "I can't do this, not to Steven; he doesn't deserve any of this,"

He stared down for a moment, placing his hands at his waist. "But don't you deserve more than what he's giving you?"

"No,"

He shook his head. "You still don't get it, do you Haven?"

"Get what?"

"You deserve it all, not some idiot guy who you don't love and doesn't even know how to kiss you,"

"That's just what I want; he can give me what I need. I'm used to having to go without,"

"But there's no point in it,"

"Yes there is, I can learn to be happy with him,"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "You don't have to,"

"Why?"

He moved right into my face, speaking right in my ear. "Because there's no point in you bein' with someone who you don't love when you love me and I love you, and I would give everything I have to please you. Darlin', people ain't been good to you, but you know that I will be. I won't ever do anything to hurt you. You ain't had it easy either, but I swear to you kid, that I will do everything I can to make it better. It would kill me if you left,"

"You can't die," I whispered back, feeling tears flooding my eyes.

He looked at my face and wiped away the tear that was running down my cheek. "I would if you left me again," he whispered into my ear. "That's the only thing that can kill me,"

* * *

The next day Storm drove me to the hotel and dropped me off. I walked into the room and saw him packing all of his clothes back up.

"Hey sweetheart," he said to me with a smile.

"Hey," I said, smiling back weakly.

"How did the party go?"

"Good, everyone had a really good time," I said, fighting off visions of Logan kissing my neck.

"Did you and Logan go back at it after I left?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you argue anymore last night?" he asked, zipping up his suitcase.

"Oh," I said, feeling guilty. "A little bit, but not much,"

"Are you feeling alright? You look a little funny," he said, looking at me.

I dropped my suitcase in the floor beside me. "Can you kiss me?" I asked.

"Yeah, I can do that," he said, walking over to me and then gave me a kiss on the lips.

"No, I mean like a real kiss,"

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to kiss me like that's what you were born to do and you have waited your whole life for this moment, I want you to kiss me like that," I said.

He stared at me dumbly for a moment before kissing me once again, but there wasn't anything to it, it wasn't what I wanted. However, I knew that he was trying and at the least, I was starting to ask for what I wanted, which only further proved that Logan had a strong hold on me and everything inside of me. I was adamant, however, to prove that I could beat it and that one day Steven _would _make me happy.

* * *

"Twenty minutes, Haven," Gloria, the wedding planer, said.

"Alright, thank you," I said with a smile and a nod.

It was our wedding day, I was waiting in a room of the church with my brides-maids and we had twenty minutes before I walked down the aisle. Since I had no father, stepfather, grandfather or even an uncle, I was walking by myself; I had no family to give me away.

"I can't believe how calm you look; I would be a nervous wreck!" Trista, my maid of honor said to me. I had met her at college and we were pretty good friends, but the other three brides-maids were Steven's sisters.

"Oh, well, I guess all of the rehearsals have really helped," I said with a weak smile.

"Well, you look pretty," Steven's younger sister Stephanie said.

"Thank," I said, just as my cell phone rang. "Hello?" I answered.

"Hey Haven, I knew you weren't busy or I wouldn't have called," I heard Jean say on the other line.

"Yeah, you're fine," I said, happy to hear from her.

"I know this is really late, but Scott and I aren't going to be there, Ava got sick. I'm really sorry sweetie; we wanted to be there so badly."

"No, its fine, how is Ava? Is she doing any better?"

"Yeah, it's just a cold. I'm afraid that _no one_ from the school is going to be there,"

"I assumed ya'll probably wouldn't be able to make it, you've still got a school to run whether I'm getting married or not," I said with a small laugh.

"And Logan's not going to be there, either," she said, her voice taking a more serious tone.

"Yeah, I didn't expect he would…how is he?"

"It's hard to tell with him,"

"Will you take care of him for me, Jean?"

"I'll do the best I can, sweetie,"

"Thank you,"

"Well, listen to me, trying to depress you on your wedding day, I'm sorry, go and get married and we'll all celebrate up here for you,"

I smiled. "Alright, I'll speak to you later, thank you for calling, bye,"

"Bye," she said just before I hung up.

"Who was that?" Another one of Steven's sisters asked.

"A friend of mine,"

"What did she want; you looked awfully grim talking to them?"

"She was just saying that she and her husband weren't going to be able to be here because their baby got sick,"

"Who did you want her to take care of for you?" Steven's older sister asked.

I hated nosey people. "Just a friend of mine," I said, checking my hair in the mirror.

"A guy friend?" she asked.

I turned to look at her and fought the urge to be completely rude and sarcastic. "Yes, a guy friend. He works at the school where I stayed at and we lived right down the hall from each other."

"Nothing else besides friendship, then?" she pushed. I suddenly loathed the fact that she was going to be my sister in law.

"Well, a couple of times we snuck down to the garage and he rocked my world," I said sarcastically with a laugh.

"Does Steven know about him?" his younger sister Stephanie asked.

"Yes, he knows about him, he met him when we went up to New York a few weeks ago," I said, rolling my eyes and attempting not to laugh at Trista who was miming hanging herself behind the three of them.

"Leave her alone, she needs to be relaxed, not questioned right now," she defended me.

"Alight, find," his older sister Stacy said.

"These shoes are killing my feet, I can't wear them," I said, pulling off my white, pointy toed, high heels.

"You can't go barefoot!" his sister Stella barked.

"This is_ my_ wedding," I said as Gloria came back in and saw me without my shoes on.

"Oh, how romantic!" she exclaimed. "I've always wanted to do a barefoot wedding. Although, I would have gone with lots of rose- petals had I known….but yes, beautiful,"

"I hadn't planned on it, those shoes are death," I said, pointing to them.

"The dress looks much better without them, it's very simple," she said.

My dress was a white ball gown shaped dress, with a corset top. I didn't have a vale because there was no one to lift it up and reveal me to Steven, and my hair wasn't overdone. It was fixed as usual, just down and curly. I didn't want it to be up because I was afraid that everyone would be able to see my back as I walked down the aisle. Why did I care about what they about it, when I was comfortable with everyone at school seeing me? Simply because almost everyone that I had met outside of the school thought that they were perfect, without problems, but everyone there at school had been treated like outcasts, so together everyone was comfortable with each other.

* * *

I sat and tried to make myself realize that that was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, until Gloria was telling me it was time to go. I waited at the closed doors to the church until I heard the beginning of 'The Wedding March', then the two men opened the doors and allowed me to walk down the aisle. The church was full, but I barely knew anyone there. They were all of Steven's friends and family, with the exception of a few people I had invited from college.

I walked and listened as a few people made snide comments about me not having a vale, or wearing shoes, but I didn't care. Should I, I wondered. Shouldn't I care what my future family thought about me? But I didn't.

I stood up beside Steven, listening to everything that was being said, but not fully processing it. I tried to hear it, but all that I could hear was Logan telling me that he loved me, that I deserved better, I could hear myself telling Logan that I loved him. I heard Logan asking me if I loved Steven.

"…for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" the preacher said as he finished reading my vows.

"No," I said.

"I'm sorry?" the preacher asked, looking confused.

"No, I don't," I repeated.

"What?" Steven asked.

I looked at him. "I'm sorry, you don't deserve this. I think you're a great guy, Steven, I really do. You're smart, you're sweet, you have been a really good friend to me, but I'm not in love with you. I could say yes, merry you and I could try to make you happy, but you deserve someone who loves you, who fits in with you family and friends. I'm just not that girl for you, I'm sorry,"

"When? I mean, when did this happen?" he asked.

"I've never been in love with you, but I thought that over time I could learn to be,"

"But why would you do that to me?"

"Because I liked you enough and I needed someone who I thought I could depend on. I've not had things as easily as I would have liked, so I was selfish and decided to take the easy way out when I saw it. I'm sorry," I said and then walked off.

I stayed inside the room in the church that I had been waiting in before the wedding; I was waiting for everyone to leave before leaving myself. I had been in the room for nearly half an hour before Gloria came bursting through, looking flustered.

"I'm sorry, you put a beautiful wedding together and I apologize for wasting your time," I said, gathering my things to leave.

"Don't worry about it Have, this isn't the first time I've had this happen. It is the first time, however, that the family has threatened not to pay me because someone didn't go through with the ceremony,"

"I can write you a check, if you want?" I said, searching through my purse.

"No, I'll work it out with them,"

"Okay, well, anyway, this is for you, since you did such a lovely job, I thought it was absolutely beautiful," I said, handing her an envelope that I had put a hundred dollars in for her.

"Thank you and I forgot, someone sent this to you earlier but I didn't get a chance to give it to you," she said, pulling out a pink rose from her bag. I looked at the card attached to it, reading the words and beginning to cry. "Well what does it say, honey?"

I wiped a tear away from my face and gave a little laugh. "It says 'Good luck, darlin,'" I said, wiping more tears from my eyes.

"Does it say who it's from?"

"No, but I know who sent it," I said with a smile. I also knew what I was supposed to do next.

* * *

I was genuinely nervous the whole flight to Westchester, scared of what might happen, what wouldn't happen. I played the wedding in my mind over and over, wondering if I should have handled it differently. I just wanted to make sure that everything was as right as I could make it.

When I got off the plane, it was past seven o'clock that evening and after taking a taxi to the school, it was fifteen minutes to eight. I walked through the door and the Professor greeted me.

"He's in the gym," he said to me as I opened my mouth to say hello.

I gave him a smile. "Thank you," I said, heading towards the gym. I passed by the dining room and saw that it was full of students eating dinner. I missed living there and I missed everyone that lived there. They were like a family to me, the only family I had left. I made my way down to the gym, but when I opened the door, I didn't see anyone.

"Logan!" I called out as I looked around for him. "Logan! Are you in here? Logan?"

"What do you want, kid?" I heard him growl from behind me.

I turned around and saw him sopping wet, holding a towel around him, looking annoyed and standing in the doorway that led to the men's showers. I fought back the urge to 'purr', considering I was trying to be serious.

"Put some clothes on, we need to talk," I said.

I sat down on one of the benches against the wall close to the men's dressing room and shower door. It only took a few minutes before he was walking out with just his blue jeans and pulling on a white wife beater.

He walked over to wear I was sitting but I stood before he could sit down, I felt too anxious to sit.

"What do we need to talk about?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Do you hate me?" I asked, beginning to cry much sooner that I thought I would.

"No, I don't hate you,"

"You should,"

"I told you a long time ago that I would always love you, I haven't changed my mind since then,"

"I let you down, I left you, and I hurt you,"

"Yeah, you did,"

"How can you still love me after everything that I've done to you?"

"Because I did the same thing to you, whether I remember it or not,"

"It sucks, doesn't it?" I asked, wiping the tears off my face with the back of my hand.

"Yeah, it does,"

"I…I thought that you would hate me for getting married and when I got your rose I cried. I was so scared to be down there by myself, without any of my family, none of those people knew me and when I saw it, I realized how much I missed it up here. So, if it's okay, could I move back?"

"What about Steven, where's he?"

"I thought about what you said a few weeks ago and…I couldn't do it, I didn't marry him, he's not where my heart's at," I said, standing in front of him, still in my wedding dress.

"Tell me what you want, kid,"

"I want you to forgive me for hurting you. I want you to keep loving me because I don't know what to do without it anymore. I want you to be there for me when something goes wrong, because that seems to happen a lot to me, and you're the only person who can help me through it. I want you to stay with me because you're…you're the only person who always knows what I need. You can make me feel better just by touching my hand. I never had anyone tell me I was beautiful until you did, and I could tell that you truly meant it every time you kissed me. I want to know if it's okay if I still love you?" Tears were streaming down my face and I was shaking from crying so hard.

I watched as his facial expression softened, he closed his eyes and I was confused as to whether there was a drop of water running down his face from his hair, or if it was a tear. He looked at me, his eyes full of an emotion I had never seen them in. "I can't do that," he said.

"Why?"

"I asked for you not to leave me, that's all I wanted, and you did,"

"I was engaged,"

"You left your wedding for me today, how does that make it any different?"

"I don't know, I just couldn't through with it because I love you,"

"Haven we're not doin' this anymore,"

"Please Logan, I'm sorry,"

"I know you are, but I waited two years for you, why did it take you so long for you to decide that you couldn't marry him?"

"Because I didn't realize it until I saw you again, I had forgotten how I felt about you,"

"You seem to forget a lot of important things, darlin',"

"I thought you said that you still loved me, though?"

"I do, but we're not goin' through this again. We're just two screwed up people who found each other, remember. That doesn't mean that we have to been together,"

"Logan, this will kill me," I started.

"Well, it's already killed me, so you'll get over it," he said and then walked away.

If you assumed that this would end with 'And they all lived happily ever after,' I'm very sad to disappoint you. There were a lot of people who were hurt: I had left Logan when he told me that it would kill him if I did, I had left Steven, a man who loved me, at the alter. You can call it romantic, sadistic, right or wrong, I personally don't know what it was, I just knew what I had to do, what was right for me, and I had to live with the consequences. I had to make a choice between a man that I had never loved and a man that I had always loved. I'm afraid to inform you that if you thought that this story had a happy ending, you would be wrong. But foolish me, I did too.

The End


End file.
